


To Regret and Die

by catsandcoffee103



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, BAMF Madara, BAMF Tobirama, Blind Tobirama, Comedy, F/M, Fluff, Hashirama is a good brother, He can just be bad at showing it, Hikaku is a good bro, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Madara is secretly a good person, Overprotective Madara, Referenced murder, Ships will be added as they happen, They need to communicate more, Tobirama needs a hug, Uchiha scheming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2019-11-07 11:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17959598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catsandcoffee103/pseuds/catsandcoffee103
Summary: As a symbol of good faith Hashirama gave Tobirama to the Uchiha’s until the peace treaty is signed.It doesn’t quite end up how they expected it too.





	1. The Trade

Regrets caused pain and oh, why must pain be so painful? He had many regrets, from his very birth to now. Now being his sixteen-year-old self, handed over by his own clan to the Uchiha’s as a symbol of their truce. Peace, yes peace has finally come. Hashirama’s dream is coming true. Well, of course it is, now that their bastard father is out of the way, six feet under. That was, perhaps, also one of Tobirama’s regrets. Not that he’d ever tell his brother, no, Hashirama would never forgive him if he knew. It’s much better to allow his dear brother to believe it was an accident, as he does. And he’d take the regret- the pain- alone, and be proud of it. Proud of it because it’s making his brother happy, making his dreams come true, this peace come true. And no more people- children- will die. Yes, Tobirama will take this regret with pride, if this is the outcome.

He can take this pain for the sake of his family. Their future. He convinced himself he will be their protector. He will die for them, suffer for them, if it’d make them happy. Their silent angel- or perhaps demon- who would go to the end of the world and walk on nails to make them happy. That doesn’t mean he didn’t expect for **_this_** to happen though. He didn’t expect for his brother to _trade him to the Uchiha’s_. Sure, it was a sign of the peace, a mutual respect and trust for both clans. Yeah, the Senju’s are getting Izuna, and he knows if he’s hurt they will hurt the Uchiha, or if he’s killed they will kill the Uchiha. But that really didn’t make it better. It didn’t make him feel any safer. They were the bastards who killed his brother, sweet Kawarama. They have no morals. Fortunately, he stopped his Father before the man sent Itama into the battles alone- and if he- he couldn’t even think of losing another brother. The pain of losing Kawarama… it’s what- it was the final straw that pushed him to do what he did. But that doesn’t seem to matter to them, because he is being sent into the lion’s nest alone.

_At least he saved them, even if they sacrifice him. A pain he is willing to take, for their sake._

He was a dutiful brother, though, and a dutiful shinobi. He packed his mission pack, and masked his expression into the neutral mask he mastered at too young an age. He walked forward, never once looking back. He hugged Itama, wishing him the bets, and then he hugged Hashirama. Hashirama wished him luck, and he began his walk to the Uchiha compound. Alone. He met with Izuna half way and both men came to a pause, a silent understanding. They stared. For so long they were nemesis’s. They were enemies, fighting each other to the death day in and day out. They drew blood from each other, carved skin and mutilated chakra. They were kids at war, tasked to murder each other. And now, here they are, standing side by side about to enter one another’s life. Tobirama took a deep breath, and held out his hand. Izuna stared, for the briefest of seconds, before taking it. A shake, a mutual respect, a show of the truce continuing between kids too young to be at war.  

Tobirama continued forward without a word, and Izuna whispered goodbye. The albino stopped just outside the Uchiha compound, taking a deep breath. He hoped, he prayed, that this wasn’t an easy decision for Hashirama to make. He hoped Hashirama struggled to send his brother into enemy territory. Well, they aren’t enemies anymore, he supposes. But the sentiment is still there, and he wants to be more than just a disposable shinobi. He knows deep down he isn’t. And, and Madara had to do the same. They’ve both lost brothers. They’re both risking brothers. With one last breathe, he walked to the front of the Uchiha compound.

Waiting for him were three Uchihas’. Two he didn’t recognize, and Madara. Madara… the new clan head. Tobirama swallowed and bowed his head just enough to be polite and respectful, Madara didn’t quite return it. That’s fine. He is the leader now, so it makes sense for him not to. He is above Tobirama by status, and those superior to others do not need to bow. Madara told him to follow, tension in the air, and Tobirama hid his tension behind a mask and purposefully relaxed posture.

“So… Tobirama, yeah um, you’re going to sleep in the guest room next to mine. We will be keeping constant watch on you,” Madara rounded the corner, opening the door to a barren room. He’s assuming this is the guest room. “My room is across the way. It’s incase anything happens, I can easily put you down.”  
            Yes, Tobirama is the second strongest of his clan, below Hashirama. Izuna was his match, perfect, a battle made in heaven. They could go toe-to-toe without either of them ever really dying. Madara was stronger, though. Madara could put him down, as he so eloquently put. “I would have assumed you’d do as you’ve said, but I appreciate your openness.”

Madara scoffs, “Smartass.”

Tobirama has no reply as entered the room, his room, and set his bag down. He let out a long sigh after Madara shut the door, a passing “Dinner is in an hour” as he left. Tobirama let out a deep breath, eyes closing as he forced his emotions down. This, this is going to be a long ride.  

 

An hour passed in no time at all. Before he knows it, he’s sitting down at a long, Uchiha filled table. Tobirama recognized the chakra of some. There was Madara at the head, and Hikaku was at his right, and Tobirama was seated to his left. Madara’s third brother, Tobirama had learned the name for that young boy was Akari, was besides Hikaku. The other two brothers were killed young, the albino doesn’t quite know how they passed. Tobirama does pity him, to have had two brothers die. The pain of it must have been unbearable. Tobirama wouldn’t even want to imagine it, and will ensure he never shall. He’d much rather die first. The rest of the table was filled with strangers.

“So,” Hikaku cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence that filled the room. He sounded polite, maybe even a bit welcoming, looking at Tobirama. He was breaking the ice, Tobirama gave him props, that’s never an easy thing to do. “How do you like the Uchiha compound?”

“Ah,” well damn, leave it to a Uchiha to welcome him with a double-edged question. Be polite, be respectable. Yeah, Tobirama can do this, “Frankly, it’s much more elegant than I previously believed it would be.”

“So, you thought we wouldn’t be elegant?” An older gentleman leaned forward, a frightful aura about him. He was clearly trying to trick Tobirama up, but honestly, he didn’t see why. This was something stupid to try and stump him on.

“Well, yes. We were at war, though I’m pleasantly surprised to be proven wrong,” He ate a bite of the food, “Mm, this is delicious.”

Madara smirked. Tobirama really was such a smart ass. Really, he’s too smart for his own good. He’ll need to keep an eye on the boy. Madara smiled and took a bite of his own food, to hide the grin, “That’s a fair assessment, but you haven’t seen nothing yet. Just you wait, the Uchiha’s have a lot to offer.”

Tobirama hummed, a slight smile playing at his own lips, “I’m shaking in anticipation.”

And like that, the tension was broken and conversation flowed. One wouldn’t necessarily say easily, but it flowed. It was enough to last them through dinner and steadily piss off the elders. Apparently, Tobirama was passing all their unspoken tests, which he truly did love. Nothing more fun than pissing off the “old wise men” of a village, after all. Especially since no elder really wants the peace to come, they’re too stuck in the old ways, the ways of war and blood. The newer generation, they’re the dreamers for the new future. No, it’s not a dream anymore. They are making the new future.

But old men don’t give up without a fight. They are shinobi, after all. “So, I heard an interesting rumor. I heard that you killed your father for Hashirama,” The elder smiled, and he heard Madara choke on his food. Well, at least one person found this statement as inappropriate as he did.

Tobirama cleared his throat and straightened a bit in his seat. He took his time answering, chewing softly on his food for a bit longer than what’s strictly necessary, “That’s quite an interesting rumor you heard.”

            “Tobirama, don’t answer that,” Madara shot his elder a glare, “We are not having such discussions at the dinner table.”

            The elder shrugged, “I just think it’s important to know who is sleeping besides us. A family killer? A murderer? We should know.”

            “No. He is our ally. We will not continue this hostility between us, and you are not going to ruin that with a feeble attempt at continuing war,” Madara gave one last seething look toward the elder, and Tobirama smiled inwardly. He enjoyed this… protection? Would that be the word?

The Senju turned toward the clan head and bowed his head just a bit, “Thank you.” He was taught manners, after all.

The elder scoffed, “If you are this soft, you will not allow our clan to thrive. Toughen up! Just like you with that- that tree hugger. You are letting him walk all over you. If you were a real leader you would have fought for a better deal in our treaty.”

Tobirama cleared his throat, turning to Madara, “I heard a rumor,” he grinned before anyone could answer, “From my brother, in fact. The tree hugger,” his grin widened a bit more, more teeth than smile, “He cried to me saying how cruel you were making the treaty.” Now of course, the both of them know that Hashirama is too soft, and cries over the littlest things. It’s insane, he has killed people and brought down enemy after enemy, but over the littlest insult he can burst into tears. The others didn’t need to know that, though.

He heard Hikaku take in a sharp breath, a sign of holding in his laughter, “My, you are so soft. You let him walk all over to you, he had to go home and cry over it.” Hikaku snickered a bit at his own sarcasm. The rest of the room was silent, killing intent starting to manifest in the air. Tobirama gave himself a little pat on the back for a job well done.  

Madara chuckled a bit, “I suppose I was too soft. He should’ve been much more devastated than merrily crying.” 

“Not unless you want to deal with his depressive moods. I’d rather not go through that torture again.”

“Part of the job of being a brother.”

“One I never signed up for,” Tobirama smirked. He never did sign up for it, but he loved it, and if the returned chuckle was anything to go by, Madara felt the same way. For all the love and fun of being a brother, it wasn’t all sparkles and gold. But still, no matter how many times Hashirama cries, he will die for his brother.

Dinner ended shortly after thst, and Madara led Tobirama out to the courtyard. Madara frowned, a bit confused, when he noticed Tobirama wasn’t even bothering to look around. They even cleaned up the Uchiha compound, just a little bit, to try and impress. It’s reasonable, the Senju is probably doing recon. Izuna is. They may be in a truce, but old habits die hard. But the Senju _isn’t even looking_ , doesn’t even seem to be trying to notice shit. It’s a little upsetting, honestly. Madara really wanted to show off.

That’s fine though, it is. He always knew the younger brother was a bit of an ass. But tonight, tonight they will get to show off with the Uchiha-style birthday celebration. A party to last a decade- well, all night. A big deal, though! Shira Uchiha is coming to age, officially becoming an adult in the eyes of the Uchiha clan. So, of course, as per their tradition, the birthday will be a big festival, and the young one coming to age will dance the night away before toasting at a feast the following evening. Then the young one will challenge the head, in a battle of drinking. First one to pass out loses and will almost certainly get painted on. Really, it was just an excuse to party. The war was so tough, they needed to do something to keep morale up. Although they haven’t done it for a while, they need to do it again and this was perfect. Perfect time, perfect excuse to party.

Especially with their dress. They dress extravagantly, skimpy robes and chain belts, beautiful jewelry, and body paint to rival those of the gods. And Madara, Madara knows he is the _hottest_ man ever in his garbs. He looks like he is a deity, coming down to walk amongst the mortals of the realm. Yeah, he is so gonna blow Tobirama off his little baby feet and give him a healthy taste of what it’s like to hit puberty. Well that, and Madara does just like showing off. He doesn’t always act like it, but he does have a thing for the dramatics. He enjoys the dramatics quite a lot, as a matter of fact. It may or may not be something that influenced his insistence on bring back this tradition, but that’s besides the point.

“we’re having a festival tonight. You should dress up for the festivities tonight too.” Imagine, this albino ass man. White hair, and white skin, red eyes- hell, both of them would contrast so nicely with each other. Dark and light, black hair and white hair, dressed in gold and red and black. Maybe they’ll find some nice blue for Tobirama. He always did look better in blue. At least, that’s what Izuna would say. Not that Madara ever pays attention. He doesn’t care for that stuff, especially if _that stuff_ is a Senju. Sure, Uchiha’s find the ability to fight and kick ass especially important, and attractive, extremely attractive actually. And Tobirama is an excellent example of strong and kick ass, but still. Nope. He’s Hashirama’s younger brother, for one. And Madara would rather not face the full force of the overly dramatic and protective older brother, but he also just. No.

He’s never thought about it. Not once in his life.

Tobirama cleared his throat and looked away sideways, eyes down casted, “I suppose if I am supposed to.” For the sake of the peace. For the sake of his brothers, his clan, the innocent children that will actually be able to act like children. Yeah, no. Tobirama would rather not dress up. He is still wearing mesh armor under his clothing, discrete but it makes him protected. His one last safety between him and the Uchiha clan. Without it he feels… not safe. Safer now, just a bit, with the knowledge Madara has his back, but all the other Uchihas, and the elders, without a doubt one of them would take the opportunity to kill him if he was vulnerable. It scares him, truly, but if it’s what he must do. He will do it. He will take that risk _. For Hashiram_ a. Besides, if he dies, Hashirama would be sad for a moment but move on. He always does. And Tobirama knows better than to assume anyone else would spill tears over him. He’s cold, a soldier, a murderer. He deserves no tears.

Madara frowned. Tobirama’s mask is not as perfect as he first assumed. Perhaps off the battle field he lets loose a bit more, allows his guard down just a tad, but Madara can see. If it was anyone else, they probably wouldn’t, but Madara was _taught_ to _see_ , and he can. He sees a child who has gone through too much. He rested a hand on the Senju’s shoulder, and the boy jumped just a tad. He looked up, eyes narrow, and Madara just offers a friendly smile, “You don’t have to, if you don’t like.”

Tobirma shook his head, “No, I must.”

He must. He feels he must, obligated to do as he’s told like a good little soldier. It makes Madara sick to his stomach. He must, he mustn’t. He should be allowed to choose, to have choice, but he doesn’t feel that way. Madara scoffed, not his problem. Not yet- but it is. It’s the whole reason he wants to make this peace. He wants to stop this mindset. “Fine, and you will be the prettiest Senju there.”

“I’ll be the only Senju there.”

“Precisely. Loosen up, it’ll be fun. And if anything happens, I’ll be right there next to you.”

Well, that did make him feel a bit better. Just for a moment, because the next thing he knew he was given clothes and jewelry shoved in his direction and told to go change. He enters his room and takes a moment to process things a bit before letting out a sigh and… yeah, he can’t figure this out. It’s like a, a skirt? Not quite a skirt? A little quilt-like thing or… he doesn’t even know. A skirt down to his mid-thigh, and a croth piece longer in the front, down to his knees. And then jewelry, so much jewelry and he doesn’t know how to put that on dammit.

Dammit. “Madara? I… can’t figure it out.”

Madara entered the room after a short, “Alright, I’m coming in,” and he paused, giving Tobirama a once over. He dressed Tobirama in red and black first, just to see and… shit. Wow, yeah, he is certainly not going to give Tobirama the blue anymore. He is going to keep the red, it brings out his eyes so much- shit, he gotta get this man into the jewelry and admire the full ensemble. He grinned and grabbed the gold, layering it over Tobirama’s chest and neck with long chains, over his head like a crown and other bits layering down his arms. He took a step back and, oh yes. Tobirama looks like a demon king, his eyes seemingly glowing red, his hair looking more silver than white as it contrasts with the black little skirt and, fuck. He looks good.

“Damn Senju, take a look at yourself.” He turned the Senju around to face the mirror before his happy little mood was whipped away. Tobirama was just staring at the mirror, his eyes weren’t moving and he obviously wasn’t looking himself over. He merely shrugged, hummed, and nodded.

“If you say so.”

Madara scowled, “What the fuck does that mean? Do you not have any confidence? You look great!”

Tobirama raised a shoulder, letting it drop back down in the half shrug, “I’ve never been fond of myself. I know my looks aren’t traditional.”

“So?”

“My eyes are red.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Red like the Uchiha’s.”

Ah, that’s why. So having clothes that bring out that red, that pop, isn’t doing him any good. “I can, uh, change the colors.”

“No, it’s fine. I doubt the colors matter.”

They don’t matter? Color matters so much! Like what the hell, does this man have no sense of fashion or color of anything? Color always matters in fashion! Or maybe he really is just that stupid, for as smart as he is. Stupid, genius Senju.

Tobirama scowled inwardly. _Damn Uchiha’s loving their fire_. Their compound is so dry, the air, that is. It makes it harder to see- well, not see. But see, untraditionally. With his eyes, he had poor vision since the very moment he was born. He took care of them in the beginning, but as soon as he learned to fight- and joined the war, that little bit of self-case vanished. During the war, he abandoned his eye-care routine and his vision continuously decayed until he went blind. But it didn’t matter, because his sensing skills improved so much during that time he would still be able to locate where all the enemies went, knew where the weapons were, and could sense everything he needed to fight. He could still fight, and that’s all that mattered. Hise sensing even made him a more lethal opponent. Then he was able to fake it all the rest of the time. Not even Hashirama knows he went blind- if he did, Tobirama shuttered at the thought, he would be pissed. He’d be pissed Tobirama didn’t take care of himself, and then get pissed at himself for not noticing.

But they were at the Senju compound during that time, and there the air is always heavy with water, always humid. With his water affinity, he was easily able to push his chakra into the liquid particles of the air and **see** \- see as good, or maybe even better, then those with eyesight. He just lacked some aspects of true sight, like color. He will never see color. But he’s heard the words whispered about him, his white skin and hair and bloody Uchiha eyes. He knows he’s wrong, there’s something wrong about his cursed looks. He just doesn’t understand why, because he can’t see it. Like now, he doesn’t understand why Madara is so angry and confused, because he doesn’t mind the color of his skirt (because really, he can’t see it).

Now though, he’s in dry air. There’s not nearly enough moisture in the air to be able to see as he did in the Senju compound. Not enough water to push his chakra into. He’s sure once he gets used to it, he’ll learn to see as he did back in his clan’s territory, He learns and adapts, it's what he does best. But for now he has surrendered on sensing any form of details or clearer images. He only gets the broader picture, blurs and familiar chakra, movement and touch. Luckily, he’s good as seeming adept even when he’s not. Unluckily, fashion requires attention to detail- something he’s lacking right now. Worst, it was obvious. Even to Madara. Best thing he could do right now is change the topic.

“Don’t we have a festival to attend?”

Madara scowled, nodding. Madara doesn’t forget easily, no Uchiha does. And Tobirama was sure this little incident will be brought back up again, but for now. For now, it will be lost in the chaos of the day.

“Yeah, just let me change.” And the clan leader did, he changed into a remarkable red happi, with black on the ouside, stretching in to seemingly bleed into the red. He left the garment open from the belt up, displaying his hard chest and gold that drapes across his chest down to his abs, black gems decorating the chains. His hair was tied back with a red bow, falling down his back to his legs. He looked beautiful to anyone who can see, as hequite accustomed to people gaping when they spot him. So he wasn’t pleased when Tobirama turned to him, not even bothering to really look, and asking. “So, we’re ready?”

Fucking hell. Madara was beautiful and at least deserved a once over! He crossed his arms in a pout, “Yeah, whatever.”

He ignored Tobirama’s confused expression at his pouting tone, instead turning to lead the way out to a bursting bonfire, many of his clansmen already started in the dances. Perfect, he will make Tobirama swoon with his wonderful dancing because dammit! He will have that Senju drooling over him before the night is over.  “Will you dance with me?”  

Tobirama frowned. The air was even drier now, and now he can only see chakra blobs to allow him to know where others are. Madara’s was a familiar chakra, bright and powerful and unforgiving. Harsh and passionate and both warm and welcoming and terrifying. He focused on it, making sure not to lose him. Madara, as much as he hates to say it- and yes, he did throw up just a bit in his mouth admitting it- but Madara is his life line right now. Which is why he feels so totally and utterly betrayed when the man asked him to dance. “Ah, sure.”

There was a beat, Madara raising his eyebrow expectantly. He held out his hand for the Senju to take, as he should when accepting his dance, but the longer Tobirama stood there, just a little bit nervous, hesitant, and yes. _Oh yes, something must be wrong with him_. What it is, Madara knows not and despite popular opinion he _is_ smart enough to know he won’t get any answers by straight asking. He’ll have to be smart about this.

He grabbed Tobirama’s arm, ignoring how the man went carefully neutral- a startled jump in Tobirama’s case- and dragged him into the middle of the dancing. The heavy beat of the drums was a steady rhythm as Madara began to move, move his hips and arms, swaying elegantly past and between, eyes closed as he allowed himself to get lost in the music. Step, sway, move, turn, step, grind, and like fire he danced across the air, light on his feet and flickering, there and not and ever so unpredictable and mesmerizing. Besides him stood Tobirama like ice, unmoving and melting besides the fire: trying to make himself look smaller at every passing moment. He never danced before, he has no one to compare himself to, to make sure he’s doing it right. He doesn’t even want to try.

Madara was having none of that. He grabbed Tobirama’s arms, placing them on his hips, “Just feel what I’m doing, follow my lead.”

And Tobirama did, he felt the way Madara’s hips swayed, his head being thrown back and arms moving in sync with the music, how his legs carried him with the wind across the dance floor and slowly, Tobiram began to copy the movements. His hands staying planted on Madara’s hips at first, just letting the rest of his body mimic- learn, and then one hand came off, stiff in his movements until he let the beat take him away. Seconds, minutes, hours passed and Tobirama slowly began to loosen up. _Everyone was too caught up in the fun to even notice him._ Madara was protecting him from anyone with ill intent. _The rhythm is what you follow in dance, every movement belongs to a beat._ Tobirama allowed himself to get carried away by the music. _It’s rather… fun._ His guards slowly lowered, a small smile coming to his face as he danced. War forgotten. Politic forgotten. His senses dulled enough so that he was able to lose track of his enemies, no longer constantly counting and tracking the chakra presences to make sure there will be no surprises, no sneak attacks. _And Madara is always there, by his side._ He doesn’t even notice when Hikaku showed up, joining the dance between him and Madara.

And they danced, and danced, until the sun peaked over the horizon to signal the start of the new day. He didn’t realize how exhausted he was, lazy smile on his lips and eyelids drooping. He doesn’t realize how he allows himself to be led to his room, stripped of the heavy jewelry and skirt, laid beneath his covers and asleep before Madara even leaves the room.

He sleeps without dreams for the first time since… since his mother passed.

Hikaku is waiting for Madara outside the Uchiha’s room. “He was really out of it.”

Madara nods, “I’m glad. I can’t imagine the stress he’s been under. Between the war and their dad and coming here and all that bullshit. The dancing really wore him out in a good way, maybe tomorrow those bags under his eyes will be at least a little smaller.”

Hikaku nods, “So we let him sleep in?” Madara nods in return, and his cousin grins, “Careful, if you grow a soft spot for him the elders will be all over you.”

“Let them. Tobirama is a child, he deserves a little compassion.”

“He isn’t a kid, Madara. Not really, and I do think you should remember that.”

A frown. He isn’t not really a kid anymore and Madara does know that but, but remembering the sleeping face, so soft and young and finally free of the everyday tensions of living the life of a shinobi and diplomat in enemy territory… “Perhaps not a kid, but too young to be dealing with this bullshit.”

Hikaku scoffs, “You aren’t wrong about that,” a pause, “You get some rest too. I’ll take first watch.”

The watches were a constant, but not against the Senju’s. Not anymore. Now they keep an eye out for their own clansmen.

The war may be over, but he danger is ever-present.

 


	2. Cursed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter I wanted to explore more of Tobirama's past and sharingan!  
> We also get some good Hikaku moments

Tobirama woke late, later than what he has woken in a while. Normally he’s up with the sun, preparing breakfast for himself and Hashirama before getting ready for the day. He practices reading: a jutsu he’s been working on that will allow him to make out the words. It’s a careful control of chakra, inserting just enough into the ink to map out the letter’s in any form: book or scroll. It’s still exhausting to perform, but not as much as it once was. He’s sure with practice it’ll become like second nature, as easy as breathing. Then he changes to spar and work out until the others in his family wakes. After that, he still has the rest of the day to do as he must for his family and clan, or, before the peace, he’s ready to charge into any fight. It was an almost religious routine, one he never broke it, even when he was having a ‘break.’ He could never imagine not doing perfoming this routine, not training or practicing or bettering himself. If he didn’t, if he let himself slack, he would become expendable. He would be seen as just another shinobi- one with the mark of the devil and eyes of the Uchiha. They would surely send him on a suicide mission just to rid of him.

He couldn’t do that to Hashirama though. He couldn’t allow Hashirama to mourn over yet another brother’s death. So, he’d keep fighting, keep pushing himself to his limit, and beyond. For Hashirama. _It was all pointless anyway. He traded you away like a bargaining chip._

_He never would have even cried if you died._

Tobirama groaned, pushing himself to a seated position. Another reason why he is always training, studying, creating- another reason why he’s always busy, is because it distracts him. It keeps him from getting lost in his own mind. It keeps him from thinking. There’s no place more dangerous for him, than in his own thoughts.

He pushed himself to stand, quickly changing into clothes that were laid out for him: a light Yukata and sandals, and he then he tries to tame his mess of a hair before surrendering to its wild nature. He sighs, walking to the door of the hallway and opens it. As soon as he steps out he it’s most likely midday by the number of people he sensed going about their business. He could smell meat, as well. Perhaps it’s lunch time?

His chest tightened, heart beginning to race as he felt the increasing thrum of blood through his veins. _He slept in too late_. Would they call him disrespectful for doing so? For missing a meal with them? Perhaps they think he’s avoiding them? Maybe they’ll use the excuse to go back to war? Call him lazy- is he representing his clan poorly? Will they think they all lounge about more than work? Perhaps they won’t want to be allied with such a slothful group of people-

A hand rested on his shoulder and he tensed, freezing in the hallway, unmoving. He doesn’t even try to turn. He forces his breathing back under control- _when did it start speeding so_? - and forced himself to focus. Focus. Focus on the chakra: unpredictable, but calmer; a slow roll like the waves of the lake. _Hikaku_. Tobirama swallowed. “Hikaku, I didn’t notice you.” He was proud that his voice didn’t waver.

Hikaku raised a fine eyebrow, looking over the young Senju. He looks skittish, like a rabbit caught in a trap. Tense. Perhaps it’s from nightmares lingering to daybreak? Hikaku shook away the thought. Best way to break someone from a hellish trance is to distract them. So, he smiled, easy and calm, a half crook of his mouth. “Well I just came to wake you for some lunch.”

Tobirama bowed his head, crossing his arms and finally turning to face where Hikaku was standing, “Apologies for sleeping in so. Usually I am better than this.”  
            Hikaku’s eyes narrowed, what a weird way to phrase that. _Better_ _than this_ , as if sleeping was wrong.  Tobirama’s eyes didn’t raise from where he thought they were resting on the floor, in a subservient manner. _As if waiting punishment_. Which was bullshit, might he add. Really, how the fuck do they treat kids at the Senju compound? Apologizing for sleeping in? Especially after staying up so late during a festival? After being used as a bartering tool? Yeah, Hikaku is surprised he’s awake this early as it is. He forced himself to chuckle, waving his hand in a manner that meant to ease Tobirama’s worry, “It’s not a big deal. We just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t starve.”

“No, my actions are inexcusable. I shouldn’t have made you worry with my sleeping habits.”

Hikaku blinked, _who hurt him_? “Kid, I’ll say this once. That’s stupid, we didn’t really worry, sleeping in isn’t a bad thing to do occasionally, and I really want to hug you better. Now come on,” he grabbed Tobirama’s hand and began to drag him, “We’re going out for lunch.”

Tobirama jerked, but forced himself to obediently follow. He was also processing the words spoken to him by this Uchiha. Stupid? It’s not really stupid, is it? His father always said they need to be early risers, else they’re lazy. Unmotivated, and easy to be snuck up on. But then again, it was a time of war then. Now, they don’t particularly have to worry about an ambush, right? Maybe the Uchiha’s are just better about adapting to a time of peace. But hug him better? Is there something wrong with him? _Of course, there is. Just look at you._

He bit the inside of his lip. He was hoping the Uchiha’s wouldn’t notice his failings, but when it’s worn proudly on his skin, it’s obvious to notice. Evil looks the same to all people, he supposes. White skin, white hair: abnormal, strange, unusual, _cursed_. Perhaps that’s one of the few universals between the clans.

 

Hikaku brought him a little café in the compound, one that serves ramen- it’s been so long since Tobirama has had ramen- and led him to a seat. Tobirama brought his legs beneath himself and sat opposite of Hikaku. The Uchiha grinned, “Have anything you want.”

Tobirama tilted his head forward in a sign of respect, “Thank you,” he’ll order the cheapest ramen. He doesn’t have much money to pay, or if Hikaku is paying he doesn’t want to burden the other with an expensive meal. He set his menu down, glancing up as one would when making conversation, and paused. Hikaku’s chakra is focused, strangely so on… him. Is he staring? Tobirama cleared his throat, “Is there anything you’d like of me?”

Hikaku hummed. His head was resting on his hand as he was intensely staring and… Tobirama didn’t notice quickly. Didn’t even react like one usually does when they catch a person staring so intently. Now that he thinks about it, Tobirama hardly even looked at his menu, didn’t even seem to read it. This morning, Tobirama never once made eye contact but was able to tell who he was and where he was standing. He didn’t once look up from the floor when they were walking yet still didn’t bump into anything or anyone. Never once has Tobirama looked around the compound to see what he could, or enjoy the decorations, or anything. He hasn’t _looked_ at _anything_. It’s… weird. There’s definitely something he’s hiding… But he can’t just ask what. He’ll need to be delicate about that.

He’ll start with some other hard questions first.

“You don’t act like the White Devil. At least, not how I’d imagine you to act after seeing you on the battlefield,” on the field Tobirama is confident, fierce, and lethal. He is ruthless in his killings, never once flinching or double-guessing himself. He acts like a beast, a monster, and many Uchiha’s avoid battling him at all costs, knowing if they slip up even once, they _will_ die. He became like a scary story children tell each other under the moonlight: _If you see a flash of white, run. Or the White Devil will get you and tear your still beating heart from your chest and eat it!_

Of course, kids exaggerate. Hikaku has observed him fighting on more than one occasion, and he is dangerously beautiful. Like a dance of lethal movement, trained to perfection. It was sad, really. No child should have been able to fight so well. But it was war, and kids were sent out on both sides. The Uchiha’s had their own mistakes, after all. Izuna practically claimed Tobirama after the first fight they had together. He loved the challenge; Izuna was much like Tobirama in that regard. He was trained much too well, more so than any child should be, and Tobirama was his only equal on the battlefield. Together they were a dance of death, toe-to-toe on a stage of glass, ready to shatter at any wrong move. It never shattered, no man ever fell. Of course, it became stained with blood, but they were so perfect of opposites, _ying and yang_. They performed a fight made by the gods themselves.

They resembled Hashirama and Madara. But Hashirama never got Tobirama’s nicknames. He never became a monster like his brother did. Hashirama was always too human. He showed anger and sorrow, he jested and joked and returned every one of Madara’s taunts. Hashirama was human, powerful and deadly even beyond Tobirama own reserves but… human still. He showed his humanity, wore his hearts on his sleeves and smiled and remorse even on the battlefield.

And perhaps that’s why Tobirama became the boogie man. Besides rare displays of anger or irritation… he never showed emotions. He was always just a soldier, impassive, even as he took a life. He never even flinched _, like it meant nothing_. And his stare… always staring, straight ahead. It always seemed as if his eyes never moved to follow attacks, or peoples. He just knew. He just stared. He just… predicted, impassive, confident, as he struck down opponent after opponent. It was monstrous, scary, creepy and… and it _turned_ him into the monster Uchiha’s feared.

But now this boy in front of him is nothing like the one on the battle field. He’s too respectful, subservient in a manner that was odd, flushed with embarrassment and jumpy enough you’d think he got beaten regularly…

Actually, that would explain a lot.

Hikaku watched as Tobirama visibly flinched, just a bit, at the nickname. Interesting. “Yes. On the battlefield, it’s best to separate oneself from their emotions, lest they falter and die.”

Hikaku frowned, “Who told you that?”

“Father.”

Ah, yes. The man who would want to win the war above all else. Would the bastard really force his son into becoming emotionless, just to have a perfect soldier? Hikaku scowled, he doesn’t doubt it, the bastard. Half the times he thinks that’s why half of these stupid ass elders and clan heads even breed: to get more soldiers, rather than a family. And Hashirama clearly failed at becoming the perfect soldier, so try, _try again_ until he gets one that works. Make Tobirama obedient- ( _strangely subservient)-_ to make him push himself farther than he should have to- _(think sleeping in is a sin)-_ and become that perfect soldier on the field - _(to remove emotions- kill without flinching)_. No, he knows better now. Tobirama is not a monster. His father was.

He saw Tobiram stiffen, and snap his eyes shut. Like one would do when- shit. Hikaku forced himself to calm, though he didn’t think his sharingan activated. Though, he is a Uchiha getting pissed, and they were just enemies. It’d make sense for Tobirama to assume his sharingan would activate. “I’m calm, I’m calm. Sorry kid, I just had a thought.”

“A thought that made you angry.”

“Yep.”

“Was it something I said?”

“Ah, not really. Nothing you need to worry about.”

Tobirama carefully opened his eyes, though he still remained tense. Almost ready to run. That’s when the food was delivered.

“Anyway!” Hikaku clapped his hands together, “Let’s eat! This is going to be the best ramen you ever had!”

“I don’t doubt it,” he has only eaten ramen once before. His father always said it was too unhealthy for him. It wasn’t in a soldier’s diet.

They dug in, and Hikaku was right. The ramen was heavenly. Tobirama couldn’t help but let out a little happy sound, “This is absolutely delicious.”

“I told you,” Hikaku smirked before digging into his own food.

They ate in silence. It wasn’t one of those weird, awkward silences. It was a comfortable one, one where they simply enjoyed each other’s presence without the need for words. As Hikaku was finishing up his meal, he looked up again to study his eating companion. There was one more mystery about the Senju… He quirked his head to the side, contemplating, before, “Where did you get the marks on your cheeks.”

Tobirama flushed, ever so slightly. Hikaku found it cute in a bit of an endearing fashion. He cleared his throat, “Um, they’re scars, I was kidnapped-“

“By who? I mean, not the Uchiha’s cause kidnapping Butsuma’s son would be in our history books. So, it wasn’t us.”

Tobirama flushed more, “No, it was a clan thing.”

“You were kidnapped by your clan?”

“It was a training exercise gone wrong.”

“Well it must have gone very wrong. Those scars are very deliberately made.”

“The scars were a practical joke gone wrong.”

“During a training exercise gone wrong?”

“…yes.”

Tobirama was full of shit.

Tobirama knew he was full of shit. But he didn’t want to tell the truth. He didn’t want to tell Hikaku that he was kidnapped by his clan members, because they wanted to try to ‘purify’ him in a ritual to counteract the bad omens he brought to the clan with his birth. They tried to ignore him at first, and just pretend his curse didn’t have an effect. But then they got in a streak of losing battles and, well, who’s to blame for that? It can’t be coincidence. So, they asked the gods to purify him in the rituals, so cleanse his chakra and body- and then afterwards they won the next battle, so it must have worked. They, of course, had to repeat the ritual. They had to ensure Tobirama would never be able to bring misfortune on them again. And again. By the third time Hashirama found out about these rituals, and threatened to murder his own clansmen if they ever touched his little brother again. The damage was done, though. Tobirama was scarred. A reminder of how the clan felt about him, feared him, loathed him. He didn’t mind the rituals though. He thought if going along with it made them happy, made them hate him just a little bit less, it’d be worth it? He was so confused, why couldn’t Hashirama see that too? It’s not like these cuts affected his skill in battle, so what did it matter? Why did he care?

Only when he aged did he understand. Hashirama cared because he _cared_. For him, as a person.  

His lies were obvious to the Uchiha, however. Hikaku didn’t question him further though, and he was thankful for that.

“So, your clan gave them to you on purpose?”

He was fooled.

Tobirama coughed up his ramen. Just when he thought it was safe from further questioning. Damn Hikaku and his long pauses fooling him. He looked away, and nodded. No point in lying now. He won’t escape. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Don’t tell me your foolish enough to believe _your_ clan gave me the nickname _White Devil_. My clan believed my birth was a bad omen, and they treated me as such.”

Hikaku was startled, really. Who treats a child so badly? A baby? _Why_ \- “Why?”

Tobirama gave him a look that clearly said he was stupid. Hikaku took offense. “Look at me. My looks are cursed.  They believe I resemble a Yūrei. Specifically, a Uchiha’s Yūrei, who came back to haunt the clan that killed him, and force them all to die. Why else would my eyes resemble the enemy’s clan? Between it all it made them believe I foretold the doom of the Senju clan at the hands of the Uchiha’s. They wanted to stop it, and they had superstitious ways to keep my curse at bay.”

“And it involved physical harm.”

“Slightly.”

“They sliced up your face deep enough that it’ll scar.”

“Yes, rather unfortunate.”

“That’s all? No anger? No sense that wasn’t fair? That hurting a _child_ was wrong?”

Tobirama paused. No one ever asked him his thoughts on it before. It was either the clan’s perspective, which it is fair and he does _deserve_ it and they’re not _killing_ him so it’s fine. _Suck it up_. Or it was Hashirama, with anger and fire in his eyes yelling at the people committing the so-called crime and forcing Tobirama to promise that he’d never let the clan do something so savage to him again.

But now it’s his turn to make an opinion. “I can’t say I blame them. They feared me and losing this war, and they thought doing this to me would make them win. They felt safe and happy performing the ritual so… I can’t fault them for that. Besides, the Senju never had children. Only soldiers.”

Hikaku’s frown was deep, and his eyes narrowed. For the first time, he saw Senju Tobirama for what he was. A boy, thrown far too early into the adult world. He had a heart too big for a soldier, a hear that’s crying out for acceptance, and love, and happiness- for everyone to be happy, even if he couldn’t be. It’s what forced him to allow the clan to perform those rituals: so they could be happy. It’s what led him to become a monster on the battlefield: for acceptance, perhaps even just a little bit of love from his father. It broke Hikaku’s heart. He pushed him bowl aside, no longer hungry, and stood silently. He saw Tobirama stiffen _, but his eyes didn’t track him_. Perhaps a form of showing trust? Regardless, Hikaku rounded the table and sat next to the child, slowly and deliberately wrapping his arms around Tobirama and pulling him into a hug.

“You’re too kind for your own good, you know that?”

The albino was rigid in the embrace, waiting for the other shoe to fall. Waiting for the mockery, or the laughter, the fist or foot to make contact, or something. Something. No one ever hugged him, besides his brothers. But it never came. Only the kind words, said in a voice that belonged to his enemy- no, his old enemy- laced with unspoken promises and sorrow. And then nothing. Nothing but the hug that was never ending. Perhaps waiting? Waiting for him to relax, to let the tension bleed from his shoulders and lay against Hikaku’s chest, little hand coming out to grasp weakly at the bottom of Hikaku’s shirt, holding on to this man who showed him kindness and ask nothing in return. It felt good, like support, like a lifeline.

And they stayed like that, for a long period of time. Long enough for his eyes to close, and to lose himself to the steady beat of Hikaku’s heart, to lower his shields and stop focusing his chakra on sensing the world to just enjoy the moment. The here and now. He could get stabbed in the back and not care, right now. He was just… he’s just… someone is… he can’t explain it. But he feels safe. He feels like Hikaku is reaching out, trying to be his family even though not even two months ago they were attempting to kill each other and… it’s just… Tobirama felt like he never really had this before. Yes, he had Hashirama and Itama and they undeniably loved him. But Tobirama messed that one up. He became the one who loved them too much, pushing their returned affections away ever so slightly because Tobirama planned on dying for them, and he didn’t want them to mourn him greatly when he did. And then he was the White Devil, and he didn’t want to also tarnish their reputation within the clan. _And his little voice always fed him lies- how could they love someone so very wrong?_  So, they tried, for so long, but one day they stopped trying and took what they could at arm’s reach. But Hikaku pushed past that, and is past his emotional defences and… and its affection like he never had before.

It’s why he didn’t notice Madara until the man was already there, “You guys got pretty cozy.”

Tobirama jumped, but Hikaku’s hold never faltered, keeping him close, “Hope you aren’t too jealous, Madara-sama.”

_Jealous? Of what?_

“Cut the crap, Hikaku. I wanted to invite Tobirama to a spar but if you guys are too busy cuddling I could come back later.”

Tobirama blushed brilliantly. A curse to his paleness- the blush was always obvious. He pushed himself off Hikaku, straightening his Yukata and bowing his head, “I would be honored to spar with you, Madara-sama. Allow me to go change first.”

Madara nodded, “I’ll meet you outside the main entrance.”

Tobirama nodded and fled the scene. No, not fled. Strategically retreated from his embarrassment.

Madara glared at Hikaku, his voice a mocking imitation of his cousin’s, “ _Careful, don’t grow a soft spot for the child_.”

Hikaku smirked, “I can do what I want _, I’m not clan head_.”

Some say it might be unprofessional for the clan head to kick his relative in the middle of a ramen shop, but Madara would disagree.

 

* * *

 

Madara brought Tobirama to a training field, removing his shirt and falling back into an easy, defensive stance, “Ready?”

Tobirama nodded, falling back into a stance of his own. He hasn’t fought Madara one-on-one before. That was always Hashirama. It’d be interesting to see how he fights, what he will do. Fire against water, Tobirama always believed water was easiest to manipulate, but fire was strongest. Therefore, the intellectuals used water, and the brute used fire. It’s accurate, given who they are.

Tobirama fights smart. He is a deadly opponent head on, regardless, but his true strength lies in his strategy. He uses the environment and his own brain to bring him to an easy win. Madara fought with brute force, taking a punch and giving it back twice as hard. Izuna was always a mix between the two, always interesting and fun to fight.

But now, Tobirama is learning that Madara is just annoying to fight. He uses water to shield himself from a flaming ball of fire, but Madara just keeps pushing, harder and harder until the fire is starting to break through the water and Tobirama has no choice but to fall back, hoping to get Madara off balance with water bullets. And it worked, until Madara turns the water to steam, burning himself while doing so but seeming to not even caring because he’s attacking again-

And the Sharingan. One may wonder, does the sharingan effect a blind man? Tobirama would say he doesn’t know, because he doesn’t. He was never traditionally blind. He is adept enough with chakra that he doesn’t quite need vision to be effected. It still needs his eyes, and he must still close his eyes when fighting an activated Sharingan because, well, how does he explain it?

The eyes are the pathway to the soul, some may say. They’re soft, easy to penetrate and leads directly to a person’s brain. It’s why they are the target: no shield of skin preventing the chakra to penetrate the pupil and optic nerve. For Tobirama, he doesn’t need to see the eye, merely he ‘sees’ the chakra. The chakra from the Sharingan changes to become like penetrative spikes, lashing out from the user in every direction as it tries to find its target. Its like a mind of its own, dangerous and different and always seeking, seeking, seeking. But, Tobirama always theorized if the Uchiha’s learned how the chakra of the sharingan worked, they could use other methods to put a person under the genjustu. They could force the chakra to gather somewhere else besides their eyes- but it’d still have to be a part of their body, he’s sure.  

Madara wins in the end. They’re both panting, scraped and worse for wear, but Madara wins. He grins down at Tobirama before helping the younger man to his feet. “Nice fight.”

“It was not a nice fight. You are terribly annoying to fight.”

“Wha-“

“Who _blows themselves up_ just to win? And then get out of said explosion with just a _little_ burn? Are you fireproof? Is that the hidden Uchiha secret? Being fireproof?!”

Madara has yet to see Tobirama so impassioned about something. The boy was waving his arms in a manner that was carefully not flailing but still gave off the same chaotic energy, ranting and mumbling about not being effected by an explosion and how that completely, and totally, defies the laws of science. Madara was thinking about revealing his actual technique, but decided this was much too fun.

He likes seeing Tobirama with a little spark of energy.

“Well, what about you?” And he also had his own mystery to solve, “Your eyes were shut as soon as I activated my Sharingan, _you couldn’t see_ , and yet you’re fighting style never once changed. It was as if you weren’t blinded. Is this a hidden Senju secret- you guys can see without eyes?”

Tobirama sobered, _shit_. He forgets sometimes, Madara is smart, and observant. But alas, that was rather easy to forget. Well, might as well have a little fun, right?  He turns to Madara with what Touka dubbed his ‘little shit grin’ spreading across his face. “Yes.”

Madara startled, “Wait? Seriously? Hold on! Don’t you dare walk away from me! You have _questions_ to answer!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See that little ode to Itachi's use of his fingers to cast genjustu rather then the Sharingan? I felt it would fit with Tobirama's description of it, and also why Tobirama is still effected by it. Because he can 'see' the Sharingan's chakra, it can still pierce his eyes and effect him. 
> 
> Anyway~ I played a little footloose with Japanese folklore using the Yurei, but the Yurei is essentially a Japanese ghost (you know, pale as fuck) so Tobirama who looks so very different then the Senju's: dark skin and brown hair, he'd be considered an anomaly.  
> I actually based their treatment of Tobirama roughly off how different cultures treated those they accused of witch craft. Those usually accused of witchcraft are because they're within the minority somehow, and either look or act strange. I felt this fit Tobirama because he was a minority (child) and looked very different (albino). Personally, I feel the only reason they didn't try to 'return him to the spirit world' is because he's the son of Butsuma. Anyway, because of the strange behavior and social status, 'witches' are accused and- in European history tortured and/or killed- in other cultures exiled or put through an oftentimes painful ritual to 'exorcise' them. (Many cultures think it's an evil spirit who entered the witch's body to force them to do evil, so sorta like demonology but not quite, which is why I used the term purify. I also played footloose a bit because it's a ghost instead of a witch, and the folklore is different). 
> 
> Essentially, I did all that for backing of Tobirama's childhood experiences, because I think it needed to go a little further than just 'cursed looks'. I do take the Senju and Uchiha's as superstitious people, but I always felt eh Senju may be a bit more supersitious. I'm not sure why, I just did. 
> 
> I also wanted to explain some psychological impact of the war and everyday life of being unwanted within his clan. I always felt there had to be a reason Tobirama was so different than Hashirama, so I made a reason. 
> 
> That's all! Please comment and tell me how ya'll like it!  
> Also, I want to practice writing other characters and different types of scenarios, so if any of yall have a scene you'd like me to write hmu in the comments!


	3. The Start of Betrayal

            Tobirama has begun to notice the cultural differences between the Uchiha’s and the Senju’s. The Uchiha’s are much more family-focused. Both clan and family are regarded as equally important. There’s a sense of loyalty and trust amongst the ranks, where being betrayed within the home is almost on par with treason against the clan. There’s little punishments greater than being disowned. Unity is strong amongst them, and frankly, Tobirama finds it quite intriguing and perhaps… perhaps he regards it with a bit of envy. There is so much love amongst the Uchiha’s, so no wonder they feel so much more than the Senju’s.

The Senju’s are less family focused. They strive through class and duty: clan before family. It is one’s duty within a clan to do _this_ , and _that_ , with little gratitude or reward. Senju’s are about efficiency, and there’s little social leeway to do what one wishes to do, or raise amongst the social or political ranks. Hashirama is trying to change that. Tobirama believes he will be successful, one day. When Hashirama puts his heart to something, he will succeed.

            However, Tobirama has noticed one little, _tiny_ problem with the Uchiha’s family orientation and open love. Love can make people do stupid things, even the very important, and supposedly wise elderly, do stupid things. But we’ll get to that later.

            “ _You Stewed Prune, I hope your family gets eaten by ants_!” Well, Tobirama has never heard an insult like that before, and it wasn’t directed at him- Yay. No, someone else had the pleasure of being at the receiving end of those insults. Curiosity having won, Tobirama decided to see what that was about. He carefully stretched out his chakra, prodding around the corner from where he heard the voice and, ah, strange. The Senju carefully and silently made his way around the corner, pausing just before he was about to enter the other room. He wanted to question what this fuss what about- and the best way to do that was to ask.

            “As creative as those insults are, I don’t believe that scroll deserves them,” The youngest brother of Madara’s family jumped, turning around to look over at the intruder. The Senju intruder.

He blinked warily before clearing his throat, “Hi, I didn’t notice you.”

            “I could tell,” Tobirama made his way into the room. The brother, Akari, his chakra signature resembled more of a civilian’s than a ninja’s. Not that Tobirama is stupid enough to believe he wasn’t trained to stay alive, but he certainly wasn’t a fighter like the rest of them. It was interesting to ponder why: Was he sick? Was he just that bad at fighting, they figured it would be best to keep him off the front lines? Perhaps he never got the sharingan? At least, the boy has never used it prior, to Tobirama’s knowledge. “If I may be so bold, what has enraged you so?”

            “Oh, um, nothing I can tell you,” Akari laughed a bit nervously, and Tobirama could feel the tension in the room. The brother is afraid, it seems. Perhaps _afraid_ is too strong of a word- but he’s certainly frightened. Tobirama doesn’t blame him, really. The Senju has done nothing to earn his trust. They were enemies. Tobirama has most likely slaughtered some of his friends.  

            “I understand. I am an outsider,” A long pause, followed by awkward silence and a crinkle of paper as the scroll is rolled up to be put away, “I haven’t seen you on the front lines. Are you not a fighter?”

            “Ah, no. I do more of the paper work, or did. Some courier runs and medicine.”  
            “Why? I though most Uchiha’s took pride in being able to fight.”

            He heard Akari shrug, figured the boy was avoiding eye contact- if Tobirama was bold enough to make assumptions based off his timid nature, “I don’t like fighting.”

Ah, well. Tobirama was a bit surprised, if he was honest. That’s all it took to get out of a war here? They just, _oh, you don’t like it? That’s ok, we’ll support you and give you this other job_. But then again, he supposes that fits with the culture. They love each other here. Respect each other. So maybe they would just… approve. Or even if they don’t approve, they’d still support each other. It’s weird. It’s really weird. It kind of makes Tobirama uncomfortable and suspicious and… and jealous. “Oh.”

            “Yeah, weird, right? I just, don’t like blood or killing or- or hurting. I guess I’m kind of, of _different_ that way,” And that tone, Tobirama knows that tone. He uses it much too often on himself: self-depricating, not quite crossing into the self-loathing territory but dancing the line oh so dangerously.  

            “No. There’s nothing wrong with having morals,” Tobirama stared straight ahead. No one should have to consider themselves as weird or different, especially for such a- a pure reason. A good reason. “It’s admirable, really. You value life, more people should.”

            “Huh, I didn’t think- never mind,” Akari blushed, looking down at his lap. He always got in trouble for speaking before he thinks. He says things, he says things he shouldn’t and people get offended. He’s trying to fix it but it can be hard. He just likes to talk and be _honest_ and have real conversations without having to be polite or walking on eggshells but people always take offense and it’s funny given how tough they all are physically they’re so weak mentally and Madara keeps telling him to watch his mouth and now he’s gone and nearly insulted the Senju-

            “No, finish what you would have said. I can guess it, anyway. You don’t think I would see your perspective, given my reputation.”

            “Yeah… sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you-“

            “You’ve done no such thing,” Akari perked, turning back to Tobirama with wide eyes. Maybe, maybe Tobirama was more like him? “It’s a perfectly reasonable deduction given who you know me to be. But I am not who I portray myself to be on the battlefield. Every time I put on my armor, I was a soldier performing my duty for my clan. Nothing more, nothing less.”

            Tobirama was weird. He was understanding, and comforted Akari, and understood Akari. Akari likes him. He likes this Senju’s weird; it matches his own. Akari hummed, taking a moment to process those words, “That must have been really tough.”

            “At first, yes.”

            “And you had no say in the matter?”

            “I did not.”

             “Huh, I feel sorry for you. That’s not a happy way to live life,” That did startle Tobirama, just a tad. Akari didn’t care about appropriate conversation, he went in. He was honest, he was brutal. It was refreshing, yes, but also a bit off putting, especially with grand statements like that. He gave Tobirama no chance to respond, either. “Anyway! I have to get this scroll to Brother. Nice talking to you!” And with a quick hand sign, he was gone, leaving Tobirama alone, once again. 

            Tobirama slumped back with a sigh, _These damn Uchiha’s, they’re so odd._ He smiled, just a tad. They’re very odd, but pleasantly so.

 

* * *

 

            Hikaku and Madara found Tobirama later that day, sitting alone on the patio of the house facing the garden. His eyes were shut, but it was clear he was _feeling_. He was feeling the cool summer breeze dancing across his delicate skin. He was feeling the shimmering sun, warming him like no blanket ever could; gently caressing him like a mother does child- not that Tobirama would quite understand what that feels like. He was enjoying the rustle of leaves joining the wind in its dance across the air, dropping the tango at the very last minute to rejoin its branch before getting swept away in yet another dance. He was _feeling_ the world around him- not seeing, which is a lost art to those reliant on sight.

            It makes the two Uchiha’s all the more suspicious.

            “What do you think?”

            Madara hums softly to himself. He doesn’t know what to think. The young Senju can get around quite well by himself, but it’s just all these little things he does that is so contradictory: no reaction to their garments at the festival, no recognition of color, no observation of the compound, sensing people before they get into view, fighting blindfolded as if it didn’t matter… “Perhaps it was a new type training? The Senju’s finally got smart and taught their warriors to fight without using their eyes? To properly combat us?”

            “And they only trained _one_ ninja?”

            “Maybe they wanted to see if it’d even work? Or he was the only one to get it successfully?”

            Hikaku’s eyes narrowed. It would make sense, but he just had this nagging feeling in his gut, like a weight, something that made his heart scream _No_! Something wasn’t adding up. Something was wrong. But he can’t prove it. He can’t do anything to say otherwise, yet. Madara’s theory makes sense, a remarkable amount of sense. But there was just something- something that just told him it’s wrong. Something that swarmed his body like bees, telling him it’s wrong, wrong, wrong, _WRONG_. He just doesn’t quite know why.

            But… he can. He can find out why, and what. He just needs to think, needs to plot. He needs to put together the scattering of hints and turn it into the evidence that will clear the air. He needs time, he needs time to think and plot and scheme- well, nothing actually that nefarious. There’s just a mystery presented in front of him, a mystery he wants to solve- to help. The first step to helping, is solving said mystery, and that is something he can do.

            “Ok Madara,” he pushed his cousin forward, “Go spend time with Tobirama, I have work to do.” Not work, really. But a thought he must chase, hints he must collect, and a plan to provide evidence for his soon-to-be made theory of what’s really wrong. A theory that won’t send his instincts into overdrive telling him how wrong everything is- that he’s missing something and he just doesn’t know what yet.

            Madara scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Sure. Like you’d ever do work,” Hikaku is actually a very diligent worker, Madara would just never admit it. He walked over to the Senju, and Tobirama didn’t even bother to open his eyes. Rude. “Mind if I sit here?”

            “You don’t need to ask permission to sit within your own property.”

            “It’s called manners! You’d think the Senju’s would at least practice those. Barbarians, the lot of you,” Madara was grinning though, and Tobirama heard it in his voice. A jest, something lighthearted, something friends would do. It’s a foreign feeling, friends, but Tobirama liked it. “What have you been doing all morning?”   

            “I met your brother.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            Tobirama couldn’t help the little snort of laughter, “Don’t apologize! He’s a kind boy. There’s not many like him out there.”

            “Well, don’t be too kind to him. He’s notorious for developing a crush on anyone who smiles his way.”

            “I don’t think you’d have to worry about that with me.”

            “And why not?”

            Tobirama frowned. How does he say: _because it’s me_? without sounding too pitiful? Well, it seems he didn’t have to say it anyway. Madara _understood_ , and the Uchiha hated it. How could someone so strong and gorgeous and smart have so little self-esteem? So little self- love? He understands hate, all the Uchiha’s do, but to hate oneself, especially to such an extreme? To fully and sincerely believe you, yourself, are not worth it? It’s heart breaking. Tobirama needs to understand that he is important. He is loved. That one day, things will get better. It’s hard, Madara knows it’s hard, because the Senju doesn’t see what the rest of them see- only what he was taught. And he was taught to be cruel, and that he was a monster, and its moments like this Madara wishes he can just pull Tobirama into his own mind, or Hashirama’s. He wishes he could make Tobirama feel the love others feel for him. So _he_ can see, and understand, how important he is, how worthy. So he can know one day, people will break through his walls and he won’t be alone. So he can know one day, he will have a family who loves him and cherishes him. So he can know one day, he will be able to walk outside and not feel the stare of people who hate him or judge him. So he can know one day- one day… all the struggles he went through will not be in vain. He will feel the warmth of love blossoming through his very being and into his soul. He will be welcomed with open arms and kind smiles. He will no longer be a curse or a devil, but a hero to the village for his noble deeds and selfless sacrifices he gave for the sake of those who never loved him prior. One day, he will prove to everyone just how amazing he is. Madara will make sure of it…

            Yeah, that’s it. Madara is adopting him into the clan so he can ensure all this will come through. He’s invested now, and he’s not afraid to admit it. The love of the Uchiha is something he is proud of, and he will always be proud of if regardless of who it is directed too.

            But he doesn’t know how to articulate those thoughts, so there’s only one thing he can do. “You’re being stupid and there’s only one way to convince you otherwise.”

            “Hm? And how’s that?”

            Madara loves cats. Sometimes he can resemble them: this is one of those moments. Madara pounced, he pushed Tobirama to the ground and straddled his waist, grinning down at the flushed boy.

            “M-Madara?! What’re you doing?”

            “I won’t stop until you admit your worth having a crush on!”

            “Won’t stop wh- No! Don’t you dare-! Stop!” Tobirama burst into a fit of laughter as Madara began to attack his sides with tickling fingers. This is a technique Madara often used on his brothers when they were young, and still Izuna sometimes. He’s proud to know it will work on the Senju too- honestly, he kind of expected Tobirama to be not ticklish. This is a pleasant surprise, to say the least. And the beautiful thing about tickles is that no matter how much torture training people went through, they will always submit eventually. Tickling is the worst type of torture, after all. More places should seriously use it.

            “No! No stop pl-Please! I- ha! I can’t!”

            “Not until you admit you’re wrong!”

            “Ok! Ok please! I’m- ha!- I was wrong!”

Madara grinned, pulling back his hands. That was rather fast. Tobirama must _really_ hate being tickled. Good to know.

Tobirama curled in on himself ever so slightly, holding his sides and glaring up at the direction of the Clan Head as he tried to collect himself. He felt his cheeks on fire, a blush surely on his face. His sides still ached from the onslaught, his gut clenching and throat tight from the forced laughter. He hated it. He hates tickles. “I hate you.”

“Surely, but don’t you know what they say? Laughter is good for the soul.”

Tobirama knows Madara is straddling him. That’s an opening. Tobirama jerked his knee up quickly, hitting the open _target_. He never heard Madara make that noise before; somewhere between a yelp and a pained cry. It was pleasant to his ears. Madara collapsed beside him, holding his groin, “Why…?” He sounded in pain. Good.

“Don’t you know what they say? No pain, no gain.”

“…I hate you.”

Despite the pain- now on both ends, they couldn’t help the soft laughter that was shared between them. The taunts, the jests, the bits of pain, it’s all rather pleasant, strangely enough. Tobirama closed his eyes, focusing on the warm chakra of Madara- filled with passion and fire and sharp edges but, he finds it comforting now. For some reason, he feels safe beside it. A small, sincere smile graced the albino’s lips.

For once, he felt safe.

 

* * *

 

            “That is ridiculous,” An elder of the Uchiha scowled, standing beside his followers at the edge of the woods, overlooking Madara’s house. They had their chakras suppressed, but he doubted they would have even been noticed with how distracted the pair are. The elders agreed to take in the Senju, yes, but this! This is ridiculous! It’s gone from professional to- to school boys playing dress up. They weren’t supposed to become friends. They weren’t supposed to be acting so familiar with one another, for gods sake! Madara is the Clan Head, and he needs to start acting like it.

            But no! Instead he’s there straddling the Senju and, and tickling him! This is, the elder scowled, ridiculous. He did not approve. He did not approve of any of it. He only agreed because he believed he could have made the Senju flounder, make a mistake, make a fool of himself and given them reason to go back to war with their sworn enemies and once and for all crush the Senju clan.

            Alas, Tobirama is a master manipulator, seducing Madara. Not just Madara! That viper has been going one by one through the main Uchiha family. Hikaku, Madara, even Akari! He’s seducing them all. That slut! That demonic slut!

            The elder will not let this stand. The Senju’s may have sent their own to seduce the main branch and turn them to putty during future negotiations- batting his eyes and sticking out his ass like a cheap whore, but the elder will protect them. He will protect the Uchiha’s, and their clan head. No matter the cost, no matter what it takes.

            “We need to make it look like an accident,” he turned back to his followers, an expression of calm determination crossing his aged features. No longer will he sit back and watch his clan head make a fool of himself. No longer will he allow this manipulation to stand.

            He will end this.

            He will end Senju Tobirama.

            “No one must know it was us. Or if we must, we can frame an outsider,” Yes, yes they have options. After all, Tobirama is new to this compound. He wouldn’t know the dangerous streets, or perhaps he wouldn’t see the falling objects, one of their cliffs that come out of nowhere but has a mighty big drop- and then they wouldn’t hear him scream his cries for help as he slowly dies.

            Yes, yes, they have options.

            “Come, we must waste no time.”

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, Hikaku even shocks himself with how stupid he can be. No really, he’s saying this with the utmost sincerity. He can be fucking stupid. He slams his head down against the desk in front of him, letting out a low groan. All evidence points to the same thing, something is up with Tobirama’s vision, and that surprises no one. Hell, that was his and Madara’s suspicion the entire time. But nothing goes beyond that. Was it as Madara said? Is he simply trained to do things without looking? Perhaps it’s more. Maybe he has vision problems, like maybe he’s nearsighted or something. Maybe it’s something completely different that they can’t even think of because it’s so preposterous or so very Senju.

            Maybe during one of their bloody sacrifice rituals they fucked up Tobirama’s eyes?

            Who knows?

            So, he pondered. What’s the best way to collect evidence for seeing? Easy! Put them through a sight test. But it can’t be something obvious, and it needs to be something easy. Something that will arouse no suspicion or something he can cheat. But what? Now- this is where he got stupid, because he overthought it way too much.

            He thought of something with a fight, but that won’t work. Tobirama is a gifted fighter, and he’s already used to the sparring grounds because of his fights and training with Madara. So maybe something else? Like a color test? But how will that work? Take him out shopping? _Hey Senju! Want to go shopping with me? Even though we have provided you with clothes for the past week, and we have given you no money, I figured I can take you to a rainbow store so I can watch you pick out some clothes and determine if you can see color or not._ Cause that will not raise any suspicions what so ever. Maybe he can ask Tobirama how he likes some patterns- but that’s an easy ‘I like them’ or ‘I don’t like them’ answer. He can’t ask Tobirama to describe the patterns cause- oh yeah, also hella suspicious.

            And Hikaku continued on like that for what felt like hours. The ideas slowly got more and more absurd and dramatic as he continued his thought process. Nothing would work, though. Nothing is working at all, and he doesn’t know what would work and there was a nice little bruise forming on his forehead from where he’d been repeatedly banging it against his desk- and that’s when Akari stepped into the room. The angel- the gods send- the savior.

            “Uh, Hikaku? Why are you hurting yourself?”

            Hikaku had let out a dramatic sigh- he’s been spending too much time with Madara, he’s adopting his Melodramatics! “I was just thinking.”

            “About?”

            “…Promise not to tell?”

            “Cross my heart! Now come, cousin,” Akari all but skipped over to his cousin, hopping up to sit on the desk and crossing his ankles as he did so, “What is overworking you so?”

            “There’s something odd about the Senju. Something to do with his sight, but I don’t know how to test it.”

            “You wish to see if Tobirama can see?”

            “Yes. Without raising suspicion.”

            Akari hummed, kicking out his feet as he pondered, “Well, just get him to read something.”

            “….what?”

            “Yeah! You know, give him a scroll and tell him to read it out for you- you have to focus on a different scroll, a sign of trust or something.”

            “That’s brilliant! And so simple! And-“ and he definitely should have thought of that. Reading. Fucking reading. Something so simple, something that’s a normal activity amongst the educated of their clans, something that’s so fucking basic for people of their status.

            Hikaku shocks himself with how stupid he could be, sometimes.

            “You know cousin, you can be really absent-minded sometimes.”

            Hikaku laughed, relaxing back in his chair after giving Akari’s hair a soft rustle, “You know, I really can be sometimes.”

            Hikaku grinned up at Akari, “Well, how about as a little thank you for helping me, I’ll take you out to lunch. A little cool-kids bonding time?” Hikaku delighted in the way Akari perked, eyes glittering with excitement.

            “You really mean it? Yes! Yes, come on!” Akari is, after all, still a child. Young and full of hope, untainted by the bloodshed of war and murderer. So many people forget that, and it’s sad. Hikaku will make sure his childish innocence will stay alive, he’ll make sure, despite it all, Akari will still have a childhood- and hope.

            He watched Akari bound out of the room, swiftly following behind him and listening as Akari tells his own stories, his own encounter with Tobirama and how he’s ‘ _Really cool! And nice! I want to spend more time with him!’_ Within Hikaku’s mind he laughed- Tobirama really has a way to sway people in his favor, despite claiming so much hate is held against him.

            It really is a damn shame.

            They exit the house and began their journey through the compound, and that’s when he sees it. From the corner of his eye, Hikaku spots the elders whisper amongst themselves, faces stern and eyes darting about, as if looking for eavesdroppers while they strolled. They have certainly lost their ability to act stealthy in their age. When they spot Hikaku, they began to move quicker, away from his direction.

            That’s never a good sign.

            He turned his attention back to Akari. After their lunch, he’s speak to Madara about it. Elders plotting is akin to political warfare. He only hopes they’ll be able to stop… whatever it is.

            But first, lunch.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh, what could the elders be planning?  
> Akari is introduced! Madars's third brother (who lived in this reality).  
> Tobiramas secret is at risk of being found out!  
> What do yall think will happen next?  
> Please comment!  
> Also! I want to Drabble outside my comfort zone, so if you have any characters/situations you’d like to see me write drop them in the comments below!


	4. Blind Sight

Hikaku invited Tobirama out for a work lunch. What type of work? Well, Hikaku is suddenly overwhelmed by some basic, non-classified paperwork, and he claimed that he would love to pick at the Senju’s brilliant mind. Of course, that is just a front. He’s really, _finally_ , putting his little friend to a test. He’s finally seeing what’s what in this world, more specifically, he’s finding out what’s wrong with Tobi’s eyes. Or what’s not wrong. Whatever it is, he wants to know.

Tobirama happily went to help him, to say the least. He really is such a good person, with a pure soul, and Hikaku is totally taking advantage of that kindness. He does feel a little guilty. Not enough to stop what he’s planning, but enough to feel a little bad still. Hikaku thinks that’s good enough.

Regardless, he called Tobirama in when the man knocked on his bedroom door, since they’re having lunch in Hikaku’s room. After all, Hikaku does respect Tobirama enough to not out his secret in front of everyone. Besdies, it’s more of an office room, since apparently Hikaku isn’t important enough to have an office of his own. He’s not salty about it though, and he definitely doesn’t nag Madara about it constantly because he assumed his importance socially, politically, and blood-wise warrants him a proper office. But whatever. It’s fine.

He smiled brightly when Tobirama entered the room, patting the seat beside himself to encourage Tobirama to sit beside him. “Hey Tobes, welcome,” he leaned back, pulling out a few business scrolls to initiate the test. He watched Tobirama flush at the nickname and sit down beside him obediently. The Senju made himself comfortable in the chair, leaning against the armrest closest to Hikaku, brushing his shoulder slightly against the other male. It made Hikaku feel even more bad, because he knows that is a sign of trust. He knows Tobirama has an issue with affection, and would only willingly touch someone he’s comfortable with. After all, most of Tobirama’s affection has been negative, so now he’s much twitchier about touch.

But he’s willingly leaning against Hikaku, which expressed how much he was comfortable with the man. And now he’s going to trick Tobirama. Damn. Maybe if he just let’s Tobirama think discovering a secret was never ever a trick, and it always just an accident and never on person, things will be fine. Yeah, he will just do that, so it’s ok. No feelings hurt, no betrayal felt, it’s all good.

He handed Tobirama a scroll, “Can you please read this off for me? I need to finish signing these things.”

He watched Tobirama tense, looking down at the paper in his hands but eyes unmoving. He observed as Tobirama put the scroll down on the desk, leaning forward and discreetly making hand signs before hovering a finger over the words, but he made it seem like he put his fingers under the words- like someone using the finger to keep track of where he was reading but Hikaku is observant, and he sees the word is actually covered. Tobirama began to read out the message, but Hikaku wasn’t paying attention. Rather, he was too busy watching Tobirama and his reactions, how his reading started strong but began to worsen, and as he started to stutter and slip up. He watched how Tobirama began to sweat as he continued to read, and how every word he read was covered with his finger- until he stopped completely.

It took about thirty minutes for the reading to stop.

“You ok there?” Hikaku watched, eyes narrowed, as Tobirama took large breaths, sweat dripping down his forehead and fists clenching slightly now that he stopped reading. He continued to look down, not once making eye contact, and moving away to no longer be leaning against Hikaku. He’s nervous and… ashamed? Yeah, definitely ashamed. Shit, something really _is_ wrong. He was right.

            “Tobirama… can you not read? I mean, obviously you can. You have been but, you aren’t anymore. Is something wrong with your sight?” Hikaku was sincere in his curiosity, and he also made sure there was also a healthy dose of concern in his tone. He brought his hand up to rest on Tobirama’s cheek, but Tobirama jerked back and out of his affection.

            It felt like a stab to his heart.

            “Tobirama…”

            Tobirama felt himself shiver, clenching his fists tighter, knuckles going white and teeth grinding as he shut his eyes tightly. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

            “I won’t, but I want to know what’s up,” he paused, watching Tobirama go through what seems to be great distress. He wants to end that too, actually, he wants to end that first. He reached forward again, tentatively, carefully, as one would do with a wounded animal. Tobirama didn’t startle this time, allowing Hikaku to brush through his hair to stop on the back of his hand, carefully leading Tobirama into his chest, into one of his careful hugs as he spoke softly, “I promise you, whatever you say is safe with me. I just want to understand.”

            He felt Tobirama nod, “And promise me you won’t ever tell Madara.”

            “I promise.”

            He felt Tobirama grip onto his shirt, hesitating a moment before letting out a long sigh, “I’m blind.”

            Out of everything, that is not what he was expecting. Blind? Like Blind-blind? Completely blind? But blind people can’t see and Tobirama can very clearly see. He can fight for gods’ sake! He can fight really well, and dodge attacks, and even read! He was just reading, after all- though he did read through his finger it seemed. Was it a justu?

            “I can feel your confusion,” Hikaku looked down, surprised. _Feel_? “In your chakra. That’s how I see, really. I use chakra to differentiate things and recognize other… things. I can sense chakra better than anyone else, since I’ve been having to do it since the day I was born. There’s chakra in everything, even things you wouldn’t think chakra is in. Chakra can also be used to tell moods in people, predict some attacks, and, well, it makes it seem like I can see. Everyone I met thinks I can see. Obviously. No one but, well, no one knows the truth- just you.”

            Hikaku let out an even breath. Damn, this is- this is amazing. Senju Tobirama, the White Devil, is blind. Has always been blind. And yet he has risen above it all, and became a fighter, one so dangerous that he became a legend- known as the boogey man for the Uchiha clan. But he’s blind.

            “Wait, how does the Sharingan work for you?”

            “It’s not actually about eyesight- I mean, that’s how you all make contact, but it’s actually a very specific strain of chakra that enters through the eyes. Even blind, I’m in tuned enough to the chakra so it can still affect me.”

            “Shit,” Hikaku pulled Tobirama tight against himself, “Well, that’s surprising.”

            He heard Tobirama sniff, “Yes,” a pause, “Do you think less of me?”

            This, this is what Hikaku was waiting for. This moment, where Hikaku will either break or strengthen his relationship with Tobirama. Will he allow his shock and old ways of thinking to take over? Shunning Tobirama for his handicap and manipulative nature; hiding his handicap? And abuse him like his clan did, because he’s different, and continue this cycle of pain and hatred?

            Ha, as if. No, no. He won’t do that, “Think less of you? Tobirama, you are amazing,” Tobirama’s head snapped up, no longer looking down, but now looking in the direction of Hikaku’s face. He can tell now, there’s actually no sight there- but just a reaction to blend in better, a mimic of how others react. Impressive, “You were born with this thing that- that would have stopped others in their track. Something that would have forced other’s to never fight and be forced to live a simpler life than the one you lead. But you overcame. You fought- literally and symbolically- and you became a master of what you do. You’ve done something not even elder Uchiha’s can do. When they lose their eyesight, they surrender and retire, but you never took that option. You proved to the world how strong you are- how wonderful you are. So, fuck anyone who said anything otherwise, or put you down. Got that?”  

            Tobirama was shocked, really. He was shocked. No one has ever been this nice about this before. Nobody was even this nice to him before either. No one was so kind, they all just laughed at him and asked how he was tricking them, _what was his tricks_? Because he can’t actually be so strong while blind. Was it his brother who was actually fighting in his place? His father? After laughing at him they’d then get mad. They’d get mad because they believed he tricked them, and then they’d attack him, and then he’d be forced to kill them. So actually, he lied. Others have learned of his condition, but then they’d die. So, yeahm the only person alive who know of his blindness is Hikaku.

            But still. It’s shocking to him. Hikaku has taken this in stride, and so openly. He couldn’t help himself. Tobirama wrapped his arms around Hikaku’s neck and hugged him tight, which was a hug Hikaku happily returned. Hikaku was just so joyous about it all. He knows the truth now, and he knows his bond with Tobirama has only strengthened. Tobirama is more than just an ally now, but a friend. They’re friends. And they’re affectionate friends. They’re hugging; he’s hugging Tobirama! Honestly, that’s a level of trust few ninjas truly have.

            “By the way Tobi, Madara would be just as ok with this as I am- hey, don’t pull back, I’m liking this hug, Anyway, I won’t tell him and I won’t pressure you to tell him, but I just wanted to put it out there. Ok?”

            Tobirama nodded, moving to be in a more comfortable position as they continued the hug. Hikaku gave the best hugs, he realizes. Anija is also an amazing hugger, but he can be overwhelming. Sometimes it’s good, but only in certain moments when he needed a hug to overwhelm everything else he was feeling. But Hikaku’s hug feels like a hug from a friend, something warm and fluffy- like pancakes. He can get addicted to these hugs. He’s really, really glad he has Hikaku as a friend.

            But then again, Hikaku has always been warm and welcoming. He’s made Tobirama feel like a friend and- and safe. And he’s honest and doesn’t pressure him but gives him advice and he’s just kind of there. The type of _there_ where you know you can always find him in times of need, but won’t be in the way or overwhelming when he doesn’t need or want it.

            “I’m… I’m really happy you’re my friend,” Tobirama smiles a bit timidly, “Thank you.”

            “Ok. First rule of friendship, don’t thank your friend for being your friend. I will love you unconditionally regardless of appreciation.”

            “But I don’t want to take you for granted.”

            Hikaku felt his heart melt, “You really are too good for me,” he pulled Tobirama tighter into the hug, “Well then, I want to thank you for being my friend too.”

            Tobirama dipped his head, resting it against Hikaku’s shoulder, “No one thanked me for being friends their friend before. No one wanted to be my friend before.”

            “Well I am so very happy to be your friend,” Hikaku smiled warmly at the man in his lap, “And that’s never going to change, so get used to it.”

            “Well… well thank you.”

            “You are welcome.”

            The two sat like that for a long time, Tobirama practically in Hikaku’s lap, and the Uchiha reassuredly rubbing Tobirama’s back, and they just enjoyed the presence of the other man. Tobirama, poor Tobirama, has gone through way too much- more than he ever deserved. But now Tobirama has him, and Hikaku has sworn to himself he will protect Tobirama now. He has pulled Tobirama into his family, his clan, and there’s no going back after that. Whether Tobirama approves of it or not, or even knows it’s happened, it has happened.

            The moment was interrupted with a low growl, clearly a stomach growl. Hikaku chuckled, “How about that lunch, we never got to eat prior?”

            “Yes, how about that lunch?” Both Hikaku and Tobirama jumped, whipping their heads up to the doorway where Madara stood, arms crossed while carefully casually leaning against the doorframe. He looks relaxed, but Hikaku can see the strained lines in Madara’s muscle. He is upset, and Hikaku can guess why. He’s jealous, and Hikaku knows why. He also knows that Madara has also adopted Tobirama in his family, and maybe also likes being in the center of attention, and hates when someone else steals affection- or people- away from him.  He probably wanted to be Tobirama’s closest friend, maybe even more, but alas. He wasn’t. Instead, he walked in on Tobirama in his cousin’s lap, as they hugged each other in a very platonic but probably not platonic looking way.

            Unless it wasn’t a platonic hug, but that’s up to Tobirama to decide.

            Tobirama quickly sat himself straight, a blush on his cheeks, “Madara, hello. Care to join us for lunch?”

            “Yes,” he looked at Hikaku, straight in the eyes, and it was clear that he was fighting back the Sharingan, “I want to join you two for lunch.”

            Hikaku sighed, “Wonderful,” he stood, and pulled Tobirama to stand with him, “Tobi, looks like we’re going out! Can you go invite Akari too?” Tobirama nodded, escaping the room quickly. Hikaku was sure he could probably feel the tenseness in Madara’s chakra, and he could only hope Tobirama doesn’t start blaming himself. He seems to have a habit of that. In fact, Hashirama will talk to Tobirama later to assure him Madara’s mood was not his fault, but rather Hikaku’s own.

            As soon as Tobirama left the room, Madara allowed his anger to seep through, glaring daggers at Hikaku, “What the hell?”

            “I know you’re jealous, but it was platonic.”

            “Oh sure, platonic,” Madara mocked, stalking over to glower down at his cousin, “You’re seducing him!”

            “And if I am, what does it have to do with you?”

            “What- no! Definitely not! I just want to look out for him,” Madara looked away briefly, before turning back to glare at him, “And I don’t want you to use him!” One look from Hikaku had the clan head backtracking, “I know you won’t, but he’s fresh meat and I don’t want, I want to protect him.”

            “I know. But I’m just his friend too. Just like how you adopted him into your family, I’ve adopted him too, and I’m an escape for him. He feels he can talk to me. I know, I know, you want to be that escape, but you got politics surrounding you, and I don’t so I’m safer. Got it? So, you got to calm down, otherwise he’ll think he is the cause of your anger. And then he’ll never feel safe around you,” he gave Madara a meaningful look, one that meant _don’t doubt me on this._

Madara ground his teeth together and then sighed- and as he sighed he visibly deflated, “Fine. Fine. But I’m keeping my eye on you still.” 

            Hikaku sighed, dramatically, leaning back in his chair and covering his heart, “You don’t even trust your own cousin! How cruel, but fine. Now come on, we got a lunch to make.”

 

            The elders sat together, a grin on their faces which, of course, meant nothing good.

            “So,” the elder woman of the group laced her fingers, eyes narrowing, “We can invite Tobirama to meet us to apologize for our prior behavior. We take him on a stroll, telling him we’ll give him a tour of the compound and the surrounding ground as a show of good will. However, we will take him to the southern edges, where the ground is not steady. We can walk him close to the cliff edge to show him the view of the lands beyond our own, perhaps a scenic sunset? And then a little nudge, and he falls to his death. We can say the ground broke out from under his feet.”

            “And what of Izuna? He is still within the Senju compound. Will he be at risk?”

            “We can invite the Senju’s over to see the scene and the body. They will see it was an accident, and then we manipulate Madara and Hashirama’s friendship to ensure Izuna’s safety. We offer our condolences and offer to pay for the burial, we all mourn publicly. Perhaps we bond over the death, say how Tobirama became such a valued member of our society, and use the death to gain Izuna back.”

            “You speak as if we aim for peace.”

            The woman smirked, evil present in every wrinkle on her face, “We lure them to peace and then betray them. Of course, we make Madara believe we were betrayed first- Izuna will be found dead in his room, a Senju blade piercing his heart. _Obviously, a Senju must not have believed Tobirama’s death was an accident, hm_? We are outraged and hurt by the betrayal, we launch an attack in the night, when the Senju’s are not prepared. We wipe them out.

            “One attack; all at once, with all our sources. No one left behind. There will be no war, just one grand battle to end it all.”

            “The children?”

            “There are no children.”

           

“Ah, Madara, one more thing,” the clan head turned to his cousin. He has calmed from his earlier incident, and they have left to go catch up with Akari and Tobirama so they could head to lunch, “I saw the elders talking. Well, they seemed more like they were scheming.”

            “Oh?”

            “Yeah. We should check it out,” Hikaku put his hands in his pockets, biting his lower lip as he thought, “It didn’t look like anything good.”

            Madara nodded, the elders scheming was never good. Especially with Tobirama here… it’s probably about him. Perhaps they wish to hurt him? No, they can’t be that stupid, right?

…Shit.

            “Tobirama will not be left alone until we know what the Elder’s plan to do.”

            Hikaku smiled, nodding, “Glad you had the same idea I did. Great minds think alike.”

            “But fools seldom differ,” Madara chuckled softly, and if it sounded forced no one said anything, “And I hope we are fools for sharing that thought. Otherwise…” Otherwise there is a political war on the horizon, and he’s running straight at it.

            More than that, it means Tobirama is in danger- and so is the peace.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you all feel about Hikaku?  
> Honestly, originally I didn't plan for him to be such a big part but oops, my hand has slipped! 
> 
> Anyway, I want to get out of my comfort zone, so if you have any characters or scenarios you want me to write drabble please let me know!  
> Like please. I want to drabble


	5. Update

Hey guys! Author here.   
I wanted to let everyone know for the next two and a half months I will be working at a wilderness camp without WIFI.   
That means no updates for that time period! Sorry!   
When I get back this will be the first story I’ll update, and I’ll try to make the chapter worth the wait.   
Thanks for understanding!  
-CatsandCoffee


	6. (Platonic) Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found WiFi and I wrote this so, here you go! The next chapter! Things are starting to get a bit juicy~  
> ALSO! I made a tumblr! CatsandCoffee103

Twice. Twice he’s found Tobirama in Hikaku’s embrace. Does this mean anything? Perhaps Tobirama likes Hikaku better? Preposterous! Madara is all _this_  and Hikaku is simply _that_ , so he can’t be the preferred Uchiha, can he? But perhaps he is. After all, Tobirama has yet to come to him, the Great Uchiha Madara  for comfort or affection. Not that it’s a competition, of course, but it is because Madara finds Tobirama fascinating and wishes to befriend him more. And better. To be the closest and best friend to Tobirama, and make the boy an official part of his family first. Ok, so perhaps Madara has a competitive streak a mile long, and maybe he is rather possessive and protective even when he very much shouldn’t be. But he is. And now he can’t help but overthink everything. Tobirama likes Hikaku better, which is fine but also totally sucks ass. Because that should be him, helping Tobirama, and being the Clan head, because he promised Hashirama to protect his Outoto to the best of his ability. And he isn’t even doing that. Hikaku is. But also, he wants it more. 

His mother said his heart was too large. He craves love and affection, from anyone he deems he deserves it from: family, friends, lovers. He craves it from his brothers, cousins, clansmen, and now Tobirama. He gets this unconditional love from all: from his brothers in forms of teasing and cuddles, from Hikaku in forms of arguments and little touches- shoulder bumps and punches, and from his clansmen in forms of admiration and obedience. But! He has yet to get it from Tobirama. He needs it now. But Hikaku- Hikaku stole it. _No_ , not stole. He earned it first; and now it’ll be harder, a larger challenge. But Madara always liked a challenge. He can do it. No challenge is too great for Madara.

That is his mission now: Operation (platonic) Love Doctor.

He found Tobirama on the patio, sipping tea as he watched the clouds slowly pass overhead. He silently sat beside the Senju, observing how Tobirama never truly turned to look at him, but tilted his head to the side with a shy smile, “Madara. What brings you here?”

Madara hummed, leaning back on his arm to gaze outward, enjoying the cool breeze against his skin on the relaxing, warm day, “I figured you could use some company,” and now the hard part, initiating conversation, “Do you cloud watch often?”

Tobirama shook his head, “No. I usually just enjoy the feeling of the day.”

“The feeling?”

“Yes,” Tobirama smiled something private, like it was some enjoyment reserved to him: something only he knows and no one else could possibly understand. It was intriguing, “I enjoy the energy the day gives.”

 _The_ _energy_ _the_ _day_ _gives_. Madara simply looked at him, eyes widened and eyebrows lifted high towards his hairline, skeptical. Tobirama is a very special person, and he always knew that, but this just confirms it in all the best and worst ways. He may be just a little bit insane, if he was being honest, and that’s optimal. No wonder Tobirama was so good in his battles, so strong. All the best fighters are at least a little bit crazy, Madara, himself, included. But he also wants to try to understand, to look at the world through Tobirama’s mind, and get a peak into how his mind works. He wants to understand him more. Genuinely. Get a little closer to him, get the Senju to feel comfortable to be vulnerable around each Him. Yes, that’s what he wants. And, well, he’s curious. There’s nothing wrong with some genuine curiosity, after all. “What do you mean?”

“Energy of the day. How it all feels. The intensity. The atmosphere; environment. It’s not all the same, through time and place. There’s a pattern. The Senju compound is cold and wet, filled with tension and duty. Some days it’s warmer, and comforting. Sometimes it’s crueler, like a pressure trying to crush you with every breathe and movement. Some days it’s haunting, and chilling or relaxing. Hardly ever relaxing though, really.”

“And the Uchiha compound?”

“It feels dry and hot. Hotter. It’s much more friendly, still the same tension but more loving. It’s clear you value family here more, it feels like laughter and warm hugs- but underlying beneath it all it feels like anger. Revenge, maybe. Betrayal. Betrayal like a kiss goodbye, sweet and sour; happy and tears. It’s strange here. I like it more.”

Huh. “So that’s what feeling the energy means?”

He nodded, “Yes,” Tobirama took a deep breath, shutting his eyes.

“Well, it seems more interesting than cloud watching,” Madara chuckled softly, shutting his eyes as well, “How did you do it?”

“Feel. Sense the chakra in the nature and wildlife, in the air and between the people in the place,” Tobirama spoke softly, enjoying the evening wind against the bare skin of his face.

“Can you feel my chakra?”

“Yes. It’s hot like fire, flickering and powerful, dense and waiting to flare up. Powerful and dangerous but also very....warm. Engaging and kind of just hypnotic.”

Oh. _Oh_. Well he won’t argue with that. That makes him feel like his energy is good. Real good. He scoots closer to Tobirama, grinning wide and feral, maybe even a bit scheming. He saw Tobirama frown a tad, but didn’t move, so he took it as good and slid his arm around the Senju’s waste.

“Madara. What are you doing?”

“Cuddling.” His evil plan is finally working.

“Why?”

“My energy is warm and now I want to warm you up.”

“Whoever said I was cold?”

Madara scoffed and pulled him closer, grinning down at the confused and tense man, “Just take the affection.”

Tobirama frowned, bottom lip sticking out in a slight pout, but he went with it. How could he not? This is Madara, the clan head. This is Madara- the strongest Ninja outside of Hashirama. Tobirama does firmly believe Hashirama is stronger, if the boy actually tried to fight at his fullest potential. He doesn’t though. His stupid Anija doesn’t want to hurt Madara. Stupid Hashirama. But... this is odd. Why would Madara want to cuddle? Is he like Hikaku, and believes such affection is a physical manifestation of their friendship? Or perhaps he believes he would be able to get something out of it. It may be a tactic to get under his skin, use him or make him vulnerable or- or something. But why? He’s already trapped here and if Madara wanted to do something he could. No need to lure him into a sense of connection. And- Hikaku already did that. Why would two need to do it?

“I hear you thinking. Stop that, it’s just me being nice, that’s all,” Madara hugged Tobirama tighter, “Calm down. I want nothing from you. Just this.” And the way Tobirama molded so nicely against his body, how he was warm and relaxed- if not a bit forcefully relaxed, and just so small. Tobirama seems so fragile, childlike, as if he’s made of glass and it makes Madara’s chest burn and ache thinking something so small and fragile had been forced to become such a frightening monster.He holds Tobirama tighter, and the Senju finally relaxed naturally, slumping against Madara’s chest. The boy finally resigned to the snuggle.

“Is this a cultural difference? How haptic you Uchiha’s are?” The question was murmured against the Uchiha’s chest, soft and curious.

Madara hummed. “I suppose so. We all are rather affectionate. Do you dislike it?”

A pause, “No. it’s nice having kind touch. Gentle.”

That one made Madara frown, “Have you had Senju’s hurt-“ his question, his burningly important question was cut off by a sudden bang, and he glared death at the person who banged open the door to their provacy. Even if he was interrupted now, he swears to himself he will ask this question soon. He will continue it, because that is something he needs to know. Not something he wants to know- it’s something he needs to know. Because Tobirama, well Hikaku was right, he he started to think of Tobirama as a type of family, and like hell he’d let someone get off the hook for abusing him. The thought almost made him laugh, he can only imagine how well it’d go over, him telling Hashirama they’re keeping Tobirama because he learned Senju’s are abusive asshole. But also asking him to return Izuna. Yeah, probably wouldn’t go over well.

Neither will this. He looked up at the Elder, frown cutting through his face. “What?”

The elder smiled in the polite, fake, awful way the elders’ smile when they want something, “May I take a walk with our friend? We wish to apologize for our earlier behavior and perhaps start fresh. Give him a proper tour and welcome him and all that.”

Tobirama was getting up quickly, surely happy to take that offer, charm over some old folks, and make his brother proud for helping create the peace- his brothers dream. Madara new better. He pulled Tobirama back down against him, eyes narrowing at the elder present.

“He’s busy right now. Perhaps try again later,” his glare met the elder’s, both with narrowed eyes and danger sparking within their chakra. He won. The elder backed down, but he didn’t surrender completely. The elder’s chakra spoke to Madara in the way it flared. It warned him to not overstep his boundaries. /We are dangerous/, the elders say, /Don’t believe you can do whatever you wish, just because you’re clan head/.

The elder bowed stiffly to Madara and the Senju tucked in his side, “Thjs offer will always be open. I will find you later, Tobirama,” and then he left, fleeing like a breeze sure to return. This isn’t over, Madara fears, in fact this is just the beginning.

Tobirama looked up at Madara, facial expressions expertly masked to be guarded, a cautious look in his eyes. “What was that?”

“Don’t trust them. The Elders don’t want peace. They don’t want you here. They’re dangerous and they think they can always get their way.”

“Like you?”

Madara nodded. He won’t argue that, not really. He knows he’s a stubborn ass, “Yes. But now I’m fighting for peace.”

A pause, one produced through careful thought, but then Tobirama weakly shrugged his shoulder, “Fair point. I won’t trust them.”

“Thank you. Hikaku and I are working to keep you safe, so we hope nothing will come of it, but just to be sure-”

“I won’t go anywhere with them alone.”

Tobirama sighed, shutting his eyes against Madara’s body. He was sure something like this would happen, he was just hoping, for once in his life, he’d be wrong. He isn’t, but at least he knows for certainty danger is lurking around the corner. But...also, knowing Hikaku and Madara have his back comforted him greatly. He isn’t alone. He isn’t alone, he won’t be fighting alone, and if he dies, he’s sure he won’t be dying alone. It was, it made him relax- dangerous for his position. He shouldn’t be relaxed if someone wants to murder him, but he can’t help it.

These Uchiha’s, they will get him dead without even trying.

“You make me vulnerable.”

“Is something wrong with that?” Madara looked down, small smile on his face. He didn’t think Tobirama would just come out and say such a thing, but he appreciates it.

“It’s dangerous.”

Madara shook his head, “That’s a lie. Vulnerability isn’t dangerous around the right people. It brings strength.”

Tobirama scoffed, “How?”

“When you’re vulnerable around someone, you forge bonds. Bonds of friendship, brotherhood, and alliance. Those bonds make allies on the battlefield, people to support you and love you: Those who will fight with you and die for you. Bonds like that make you stronger. There is no one man army, not even I consider myself one. Well, I can fight like a one man army, sure, but without my bonds I wouldn’t have anything to fight for. I wouldn’t have anyone to support me when I get nightmares, nor anyone to help me keep going.”

Tobirama hummed, “That’s quite a long speech.” But he was thinking, pondering over the speech Madara made. He’s not wrong, really. The Uchiha even used logic and Tobirama, to his dismay, cannot deny the points made.

Madara glared, and Tobirama cleared his throat, looking down at his own lap. He let out a long sigh and began to play with the hem of his shirt, “It’s hard to be vulnerable.”

“I know. But it’s important to be, sometimes.”

Tobirama nodded once again, unable to deny the statement, “Me and Hashirama. We were vulnerable together and, and it was nice.”

Were- past tense. Madara was confused, “Not anymore?”

“He has more important things to do than worry about me.”

“As an older brother, I can promise you that’s bullshit. When we don’t know what’s going on with our younger brothers, it worries us way more because we can no longer help,” He didn’t realize Tobirama had such low self esteem, and his chest constricted in a painful manner. Beautiful, powerful Tobirama, second son of the clan head, should not think so little of himself and he doesn’t want to ponder why the boy does. Not yet. Not until the time is right.

Madara felt Tobirama grip tightly to his shirt, as if pulling him closer, as if in pain, “Don’t say that.”

“Why?”

“Guilt. I don’t want to think I upset my brother more so than not,” TobiramA felt guilt. He did so much for himself, so much for his family. He put up barriers to protect them from what he has done, from how he thought, from his dark urges and fright. He did it so they didn’t have to worry about him, think of him, so when he dies they wouldn’t mourn for him. But if he only knew it made Hashirama worry more, feel more, he may have done it in a different way. He may have put up less walls. He did everything he can to keep Hashirama’s mental state safe, but if he only made it worse... how could he forgive himself?

“I’m sorry, but it’s the truth.”

“Fuck.”

Madara blinked, looking down at Tobirama, “You cursed!” He’s shocked. He has never heard Tobirama curse before, and he knows his reaction was grossly inappropriate but still. He upset Tobirama so much he made the boy curse, and the word sounded so wrong coming from the Senju’s lips. So small.

“Allow me to be upset.”

Fair point. He’ll reign his reaction in. Madara hummed, pulling Tobirama close and rubbing comforting circles on his back. Tobirama held tightly to Madara’s jacket, and together they sat there, both deep in their separate thoughts, until the sun set. Madara counted it as a win, and promised to ask about the abuse another day. He realized he upset Tobirama enough for one day. That was the most upset he’s seen the Senju since the boy arrived: He felt the warm tears on his chest, after all. The tears Tobirama cried silently, with hardly a shake of his shoulders. It made Madara’s heart ache, it made him embrace Tobirama more fully. Madara never asked, never acted like he noticed. He was simply a safe place. A safe place to cry: to be vulnerable.

He doesn’t want to ruin that. He wants to keep being that safe space for Tobirama.

It was his mission, after all  

 

* * *

 

Tobirama has gone much too long without experimenting. Testing and creating was his outlet. It was a way for him to destress, relax, and calm down. It makes him steady, it lets his mental state _not_ blow up into a mess of anxiety and depression. It’s therapy. It’s how he doesn’t lose himself in everything the world has put against him. Without it, he’s...he feels like he’s nothing. He feels like he’s falling apart at the seams, mind and soul ripping apart and pulling him in two. He feels it now, the way his chest tightens whenever someone gets too close, and the way he over exerts himself trying to keep track of everyone, constantly, to ensure no one can surprise him or hurt him. He feels it the way he gets over stimulated, breath coming fast as his senses work and work and work without filtering, every touch and movement and sound mercilessly bombarding him and forcing him to take it all in- mind overworking, head aching, senses wide and heart racing. He just wants to escape, hide and shut down. He wants to block out everything and just let his whole body restart. But he can’t do that truly, so he experiments, and it practically imitates the exact same thing.

He found Hikaku, the one who knows him best, he feels, the one he is most comfortable with at the very least. Well, that’s not completely true. He’s also very comfortable with Madara. Madara.. he thinks they have a strange relationship. It’s like, Madara wants to be closer than they are, and is almost forcing them to become more.... but he isn’t against it either. It feels nice, skipping all the awkward relationship building and just getting to being friends. Or maybe that’s just Madara. The man he is rather straightforward like that. He doesn’t bullshit or mess around, he goes for what he wants and doesn’t back down. Tobirama admires it, and it’s working. He has been feeling a lot closer to Madara as of late, and he feels their friendship built. He likes him. But Hikaku knows him best, knows his secrets, and their relationship was formed earlier, and runs just a bit deeper. So he searched for Hikaku. Hikaku who was out training and took a break to turn toward the Senju when he approached. The Uchiha’s chakra brightened significantly, twinkling like stars in the sky.

“Tobirama! What’s up?”

The Senju crossed his arms, as if hugging himself, “I wish to experiment on the justu’s I’ve been creating, but I know I am not supposed to be alone so, would you like to join me?”

“Yes. Of course!” That actually sounds amazing. Rumors of the Senju’s genius has spread like wildfire, ever since the man displayed a few never before witnessed jutsu’s on the battlefield. It was a massacre. So to be able to see him in the process, to see jutsu’s no one else would have ever witnessed before, and to actually have the opportunity to witness its creation? Yes! Yes, he definitely wants to see it. He always wanted to see how it happened. “Now?”

“Yes.”

“Ok! Let’s do it!”

And they did. Hikaku followed Tobirama to a private backroom in the main house, and that is where Tobirama set up. He pulled out his scrolls and his notebook- a large leather bound book with pages hanging loose and markers scattered about. It’s was obviously well used, and probably not loved enough, which is why it’s just about falling apart. He spread everything over a wooden table, sat down, and got to work. Hikaku awkwardly hovered over him, trying to make sense of his scribbles and raised dots on the paper. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone else but Tobirama, for his mind works like no one else’s.

This new justu he has, he nearly has it perfected. Just a few more things, a few more notes and then the trials can begin. Trial, fail, evaluate, repeat, repeat, repeat until he gets it as close to perfect as he can. It’s a patterned system, empirical, and both mindless and mentally straining at both the same time. It’s perfect for him. Boring for others to watch, however, at least until he gets to the official experimenting part rather than just the hypothesizing part. Right now, however, he is at the hypothesizing part. Well, at least finishing up the hypothesizing part. Hikaku, like the angel he is, didn’t pester him, rush him or ask him pointless questions. No, quite the opposite in fact. He was the perfect companion. He simply watched, observed, and perhaps even learned. And together, Hikaku reading what he could over his shoulder, trying to peace together and understand. He was patient, most of all. Perfect.

They went on like that for hours. Tobirama plotting, planning, running through theories on paper and going through formula after formula, trying to perfect the jutsu best he can before he tests it out. After the formulating, he starts drawing out the sigils, deciding which hand signs would work best for this justu- trying to break it down to have to use as few as he can. Which chakra nature would work best? How to use it? How to put it all together to make sure it won’t kill him or anyone else when he doesn’t want it to. How to make sure he will have full control over it, them, and his chakra. How to make sure it doesn’t eat up too much of his chakra.

Jutsu making isn’t easy, after all.

But then, hours later- he wouldn’t be able to say how many hours exactly, but he was sure it has been hours, he finished. He finished the theorizing, and it’s time to see just how much he actually got right. This is always a fun part, sometimes he ends up with broken bones and blue skin, other times he ends up semi successful. It’s always a flip of the coin.

“Ok Hikaku, I will be testing this out now,” he stood, bones creaking from the sudden movement after so long stiff in an unmoving position. Hikaku jumped, startled from where he had been watching and quite possibly dozing off.His grin widened, bouncing on the balls of his feet, excitement and energy once again clear in his eyes.

“What is it?”

“Shadow clone justu, I will name it.It’s making clones that will be solid in matter, and one where we will share consciousness. Their memories will be transferred to me when they vanish.”

Hikaku’s eyes widened, “That would be amazing! And you think you can make it work?”

“Maybe. This is why I experiment.”

Hikaku’s smile faltered, “Is it safe?”

“Potentially.”

“Have you gotten hurt before?”

“Yes,” he smiled, reassuringly, “but don’t worry. That’s the risk of creating something new.”

“I don’t like it.” But understandably, someone has to try, after all. But fuck. He didn’t like it, he doesn’t want to see Tobirama get hurt. Not ever. Not anymore.

“Don’t worry. I spend so much time doing the math to decrease the risk.”

“...fine.” Hikaku still doesn’t like it.

Hikaku disliking it was not concerning to Tobirama. At all. So he stepped back away from the table and anything else that may be fragile or breakable. Once the Senju was in the clear of anything of concern, he put his hands together and ran through a series of handseals: “Shadow clone justu!” There was a dramatic swirl of white smoke, like steam rising from the justu itself, and Hikaku stood there tense, breath caught in his throat as he waited to see if he would have to apply emergency first aid or not. The steam slowly cleared, and the sight before Hikaku made his eyes widen. There stood three Tobirama, the middle one having a frown on his face, “Only two?” He wanted more.

Hikaku approached slowly, reaching out to touch one of the clones and gasped, “Its solid.”

“Yes.”

“This is amazing!”

Tobirama shrugged, “It needs to be worked out.”

Hikaku states at Tobirama in disbelief. This man- this _Kid_ , has just performed an amazing justu: two solid shadow clones. Clones that are identical and solid and- and share a consciousness and yet it’s not good enough?! Damn, no wonder this boy is such a renown genius; amazing isn’t good enough for him. He must go beyond amazing. Hikaku wonders, despite all the creation it inspires, how does it hurt him?

“When does the clone vanish?”

Tobirama shrugs, “I think it needs to be hurt or killed for it to go away.” And then- and this caused Hikaku to have a heart attack- Tobirama stabbed his clone, and watched as the blade sunk into flesh and blood before the clone vanished in a puff of that white smoke. “Yes. It must be hurt.”

“Did... you just get the memory of you stabbing yourself?”

“Yes.”

What. The fuck. What, the ever loving fuck. Hikaku lurched forward, wrapping his arms around a tense Tobirama. This boy, just so easily- so easily stabbing his clone. Like it means nothing. Like it’s not wrong or sick or- or anything else. It makes Hikaku hurt just to see it, it makes his heart break for his friend. And then to have that memory, have that memory of killing, dying, and to not even flinch. To not even- for it to not even bother him. Hikaku knows all the abuse Tobirama has gone through, but to see the consequence of it so clearly, it hurts. And Tobirama doesn’t even understand, doesn’t know how wrong all this is. Doesn’t realize, or maybe no longer cares. No, no it’s not right. No one should be so ok with this, with any of it- it- it-

Tobirama hesitantly wrapped an arm around Hikaku, awkwardly patting his back, “There’s nothing wrong. That clone is not me, it’s merely a clone. It’s fake. Don’t overthink things.”

Don’t overthink, ha. How could he not when he cares so deeply? Hikaku pulled back and shook his head, “You- this isn’t a fight I’ll win, is it?”

“No. Not when it comes to my experimentation.”

This isn’t over, but Hikaku accepts defeat when he sees it. They still have time, however, and Hikaku has plans. He will make Tobirama learn to love himself. No matter what. “Uh, your clones though. It is impressive. Do they think like you too?”

Tobirama hums, “I believe so. They’re a copy of my mind and body, essentially.”

Hikaku stares at the one remaining clone, brain derailing from Tobirama to Tobirama, but a different aspect- a different part of his life and smiled wickedly, eyes sparkling. “I have a perfect test for them.”

Tobirama’s eyes narrowed, balance shifting from one foot to the other. He’s not sure whether he hates or loves the look in his friends eyes. Either way, it seems like it’ll be interesting and, well, he’s always been intrigued by interesting; unique; new. So, why deny this opportunity for interesting? “Ok. What is it?”

 

* * *

 

Madara was panicked. It really doesn’t take a lot to get him panicked, but he was because shit- shit shit shit and double shit- Tobirama didn’t listen to him. He watched, _panicked_ , as Tobirama left alone with the elders. Alone. With the elders. _The_ _Elders_! He knows Tobirama can defend himself, but he also knows the elders will use any sort of physical self-defense as a means to start a war. Tobirama would have ‘started it’ after all. And then if Tobirama doesn’t use self defense, they’d kill him or, or hurt him or something! He curses, racing to catch up to them only to be stopped by another one of the elders, asking about some bullshit or other. He tries to push her aside, but the elder holds her ground with a slimy little grin. She doesn’t let him through until it’s too late- and he knows it’s too late. He runs. Races in the direction he watched them leave, knowing where they’ll be going-

And he’s right. His heart sinks.

He makes it just in time to see Tobirama looking over the cliff side, admiring the view: the nature, the bright sun and too-fluffy clouds. He watches as the Elder steps back, and the ground crumble beneath Tobirama’s feet. He watches as Tobirama races to get to steady ground, but an elder breathes out a fire ball to unsteady him- push the Senju back into the collapsing ground. He watches, horrified, too far still- as Senju Tobirama falls, falls, falls.

He hears a sickening crunch of bone hitting dirt, and he knows Tobirama has died.

Senju Tobirama is dead.

Then he sees red.

He lets out a scream of rage and vengeance, blood clouding his vision as his eyes burn and change, head pounding as new power surges through in riotous fury- he doesn’t even notice the elders backing away in fear of their Clan Head. His sharingan evolves. He doesn’t notice any of it, though, for there is only one thought thrumming through his mind: Revenge. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think will happen next?   
> How did you like the chapter? 
> 
> Also, please check out my new tumblr: CatsandCoffee103  
> I want to interact and talk with you guys more! I’ll also start posting ideas and WIPS as well as drabbles and other stuff! I want to be more involved!


	7. Consequences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT:  
> There are graphic depictions of violence. If that bothers you, skip the first part of the ‘flashback’ And jump back in when you see Hikaku. 
> 
>  
> 
> Please say hi to me on tumblr at: https://catsandcoffee103.tumblr.com

Hashirama drummed his finger against the table he sat at, Izuna sitting at his left. They were at a little cafe between territories, a neutral ground so to speak. Both were nervous. Izuna’s arms were crossed over his chest, andhis eyes were darting every which way, trying to see everything at once. The boy was in a black sweatshirt that held tight against the toned muscles of his body, and he sat straight and tense. Along with his nervousness he was excited- he’s going to see his brother again. He’s going to see his brother again, and it’s exciting and he’s so happy for it, but at the same time, it’s too soon. ‘Too soon’ means something went wrong, something went real wrong. Hashirama has had the same thought, the usual exuberant and extravagant man maintained a silent and somber composure. He’s nervous, scared even, because he can’t help but think that for Madara to call an emergency meeting like this...it has to be about his brother. His sweet, little Tobi.

If anyone laid a hand on his Outoto...

The back door slammed open, and both Izuna and Hashirama both whipped their heads over to see Madara walk into the room, silent and lethal and fuming. Tobirama was tucked protectively under one arm at his side, unable to escape even if he tried, eyes downcast in a sort of trance- and slightly trembling. It was unnerving. Lastly, Hikaku, trailing behind and trying to be as invisible as humanly possible.

Izuna and Hashirama quickly got to their feet, nerves blazing and alarms going off in their heads. This isn’t good.

“What the hell happened, Madara?!” Izuna’s shouting was matched by Hashirama’s exclamation at seeing his baby brother, trembling-

“Tobi?! Are you ok?!” Hashirama ran to Tobirama in a feeble attempt to get his younger brother from Madara’s grip, but Madara stepped between, shielding Tobirama from his brother and Hashirama- he didn’t appreciate that, “What in gods name are you doing? Let me see my brother!”

“The deal isn’t up yet. We can see brothers, but Izuna stays with you and Tobirama me,” Madara’s eyes strayed to his brother, looking him up and down and relaxing, just a tad, when he saw his brother fully safe and unharmed.

Hashirama wasn’t so appeased, however, because when he looked at his Outoto, trembling and so small behind Madara’s back, clinging to the man like a lifeline. It wasn’t alright. He didn’t look alright. “No! Just because I can’t have him back doesn’t mean I can’t comfort him-“

“Stop!” Hashirama’s eyes snapped up, venom on his gaze and chakra swirling beneath his skin. How dare anyone stop him, how dare Madara command him. Even if the man’s his best friend, he deserves to be there for his Tobirama. He deserves- but then he looked, really looked, and he saw the look in Madara’s eyes. A look that displays magnitudes of importance, one that he has never seen before on the Uchiha. It showed protection, possession, and a lingering fear and regret that reverberated to his very core. It silenced Hashirama, it made Izuna al very concerned, stepping closer and reaching out for his older brother in a manner that asked _What_ _happened_? “I needed to update you, you both, on what happened.”

“I think you should.”

Madara took a deep, calming breath, squeezing Tobirama just a tad tighter against himself as he remembered all that happened, “Let’s start at the beginning, with a naive Senju and a stupid, idiotic Uchiha...” Hikaku flinched at the insult, but he held his tongue in guilt and shame when Madara began to retell the tale:

* * *

 

Madara sees red.

He lets out a scream of rage and vengeance, blood clouding his vision as his eyes burn and change, head pounding as new power surges through in riotous fury- he doesn’t even notice the elders backing away in fear of their Clan Head. His sharingan evolves.

He doesn’t notice any of it, though, for there is only one thought thrumming through his mind: Revenge. 

He lunged forward, at the elder who dared push Tobirama to his doom, and the elder feebly attempted to talk him down. He wished to try diplomacy, begging, pleading for his life, anything- anything to survive, but before the old bastard ever got a word out, his heart was pierced through with a fist- Madara’s very own. Madara felt the bone crunching beneath his iron fist, felt the blood pumping against his skin and he gripped the old man’s heart and squeezed. Squeezed and saw the life flicker from existence on the man’s face, squeezed and felt the heart tremble in a desperate attempt to stay alive- to work- but he’s stronger than a pathetic heart, and when he felt the sickening crush of muscle giving out... Madara was pleased. Madara pulled his hand back out, covered in blood and gore and watched with triumph as the man fell dead before him. That was when the other Elders realized they had little chance of peace, and how ironic is that? Now- their wish came true. They have their war they always wanted, just, it’s within their own clan. Between them, and Madara. The elders sprung into action, jumping back to create a defensive formation against their Clan Head. When Madara looked up, seeing the formation- their eagerness to fight, his tears began to run against a smile of insanity born from a mind consumed with pain and hatred.

“Are you ready?! I’m going to make sure you suffer for what you did to him!” To Tobirama, a boy, a child who didn’t- who wasn’t- he didn’t deserve any of this.

Not even the gods would dare get between Madara and this revenge, not anymore. With a broken cry, Madara felt a horrid pounding against the back of his eyes. One that reminded him with every pulse, what he was killing for. A pulse- an ache, a pain- he released his Susanoo, and in that moment the elders knew they were dead. They were dead, and they couldn’t blame anyone but themselves.

Their screams could be heard through all of the compound.

Tobirama was sitting beside Hikaku in a little forgotten building close to the cliff side, waiting for his clone to die before revealing himself, with Hikaku, to the elders- a ‘surprise! I’m not dead!’ It’ll be something dramatic and surprising, with Hikaku telling the elders they are caught and should peacefully report back to the main house to face their consequence for their attempted assassination and blah blah blah. Honestly, it’s all a bit too overdramatic for Tobirama, but if it makes Hikaku happy he’s fine going along with it all. The only problem, he realized belatedly, was that there was a little hiccup to their plan- or a big hiccup. A Clan Head sized hiccup.

“Madara’s here.”

Hikaku’s eyes widened like saucers, and he froze, “Shit,” he ran. He ran to the edge of the window, looking out to see them all in the distance. To see the fake Tobirama fall from the cliff side, to see Madara believe his friend dead, and to see his cousin go insane. “Fuck, we have to show him you’re alive, Tobi- Tobi?!” He turned back and saw Tobirama frozen, trembling, gasping for air and holding his heart, tears spilling freely from his eyes, his pupils dilating and jittering- as if overwhelmed, as if something inside him is about to explode. Fuck. Hikaku ran to his side, falling to his knees and reaching out to grip the man’s shoulders, “Tobi?! Tobirama what’s wrong?”

“Mad- chakra- I can’t-“ it’s overbearing. Overwhelming. Too much- suffocating. To have the full force of Madara’s angray, hateful chakra- it’s like...it’s like he’s an ant, an ant stuck in a forest fire. Heat and flame coming in from every side, pressing up against him and consuming him. It’s like the smoke, wrapping around him in a suffocating embrace, blocking any and all oxygen from giving his the lungs the sweet release of breath. It’s turning the sky red and the air deadly, like gravity grew heavier and is pushing him in on all sides, trying to make him collapse, fold in on himself and suffer. It’s burning boulders on his chest, crushing his heart- his mind a crashing train of trauma, trying to force him to move, to escape, and not being able to, and knowing he can’t and knowing he’s dying and can’t escape and can’t do anything and needing help but can’t ask and so close- so close to escape but he _can’t_. It’s like being in water, trapped beneath the waves, reaching up with one hand to break through to the surface, to air, and feeling the oxygen against his fingers, and being that close to freedom, to savior, to life, so tauntingly and teasingly close but never managing to actually escape. It feels like drowning.

It’s cruel gods smiling down on his suffering form, as if kind.

“Shit!” Hikaku knew he was useless here, now, he can do nothing- but he can. He knew what he had to do- and he knew he’d a better chance of getting a Senju to marry him.

He has to stop Madara, he has to calm the man down and get his chakra under control, “Hold tight Tobi, I’ll save you,” he gave the boy a squeeze on the shoulder, and then left. He ran to the window, jumping through. He landed on a rooftop and ran, running full speed to where he saw the- the chakra, the monster or whatever that was. His heart raced fast, fear spreading through his blood to quickly enter every part of his body. He really, really hopes Madara doesn’t kill him. He hopes Madara is at least sane enough to not mistake him for an elder. _Deep_ _breath_. He has to do this. He has to do this for Tobirama.

Slowing when Hikaku got to the cliffside, he froze as his blood ran cold. It was a massacre. The bodies- the blood- it was like the war’s no-man land, where there were as many bodies as blades of grass, and blood ran like rivers. Some elders were still alive, begging for mercy as they tried to hold in their gaping intestines.

Fuck.

Hikaku raced forward, standing between Madara and the few remaining elders. He held his hands up, placatingly, pleading, “Madara! Stop! Tobirama is still alive!” Hikaku has never known fear before this moment. He has never seen this type of sharingan before...he’s never seen the Susanoo before. It, it terrified him. Even the way Madara looked, his eyes wide and tears streaming down his cheeks, his insanity and anger clear as day and all but written across every cell in his body. He was consumed with their curse- and it was horrifying.

And then his Susanoo, so large and lethal- if at any other moment, this man, his clan head, he knows would be unstoppable. But right now, he needs to be stopped. For- well, for everyone’s sake.

“Don’t fuck with me Hikaku! He’s dead, I saw him die!” His Susanoo shook with Madara’s anger and Hikaku flinched back.

“No! Madara please! He’s alive, the Tobirama with the elders was a clone! It was a new jutsu Tobirama made, so we sent the clone with the elders to prove they wanted to kill him so we could take action against them! If you come with me, I promise, I will show you him alive! But you also need to calm down since you’re hurting him!” Hikaku hoped his pleas would work, he hoped Madara would listen since, looking back at the massacre, it needs to be stopped. The bloodshed, the tears, the hatred- it needed to end. That’s why they’re making peace, that’s why they’re stopping this damned war. But this? This isn’t peace. This is no where close to peace.

Madara, he took a minute, but finally he calmed. Though his sharingan never turned off, he released his Susanoo and he stepped back to the floor. His raging, swirling, powerful chakra also went, sort of, under control. It went from a hurricane to a thunderstorm, at least. Hikaku nodded, mostly to himself, and honestly too afraid to speak, ran. Ran, and Madara followed, back to the building, back to the little building him and Tobirama were hiding in. And as soon as Madara made it through the window, as soon as he looked in- he was over and pulling the trembling Tobirama into an embrace. Hugging him, holding him, not letting him go nor noticing the boys fear and panic in his relief.

“You’re not dead.”

A whimper from the Senju.

“ _You’re_ not _dead_.”

Tobirama tried to struggle out of the hold, and that’s when Madara finally noticed. “Why are you trying to run?”

“Madara,” Hikaku took a hesitant step forward, “He’s sensitive. To chakra. And yours...”

Madara’s eyes widened and he forced his angry chakra to sizzle out, like pouring water on fire. The embers still burn hot but at least it’s no longer wild, and Tobirama finally, sort of, calmed. Still trembling, still crying, but no longer acting as if he was dying.

Madara bit the inside of his lip, “Call Hashirama. We need to meet. Get the surviving elders medical attention and handcuffs. And you- don’t speak to me again. Unless it’s necessary.”

Hikaku bowed and fled, hurrying to do what he was told, not willing to piss off his cousin again any time soon.

Madara took a deep breath, trying to force himself even calmer, “Why didn’t you tell me you’d do this?”

Tobirama whimpered, “Didn’t think.”

This poor boy, so smart and so stupid. Madara scooted back, taking Tobirama with him. He scooted back enough to lean against the wall, pulling the Senju into his lap properly, wrapping both arms around Tobirama’s back, and resting the boy’s head against his chest, over his beating heart. He held him.

“I’m not mad at you,” at Hikaku? Oh, big time, “And I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry if my chakra did,” it must have, given the state he’s in, and a rush of guilt and self loathing overtook Madara as he thought of how he did this. He did this, his chakra did it. He shook the thought from his mind. No need for that now, “I’m so sorry. But now, now I’m going to protect you, ok? Forever.” Forever. He didn’t mean I say that, not really. But watching how the tension slowly began to slide from Tobirama’s muscles, he’s glad he did. Because he realized, it’s true. He will.

He isn’t letting Tobirama go anytime soon.

* * *

 

“So, we called you two. Tobirama has not completely calmed yet, as you can see,” the child looked so small. He looks, he for once, looks his age: hiding behind Madara, trembling like a child as he tightly grasps the man’s shirt, and consumed in his own mind. The eldest Uchiha and his cousin were sure Tobirama has yet to even realize his Anija was with them. Hashirama was sure of it too.

“Well then,” Hashirama looked up to Hikaku, “It was an elaborate plan to stop the elders, went very wrong, lots of elders are dead and... what does that mean for you?”

Madara shrugged, “We do have proof of their assassination attempt, so it’s not the worst thing in the world that they’re dead. We just have to replace them now, and we can. There’s a lot of old bastards waiting for the job, and I can assist in the choosing, so we can get those who want more peace.”

Hashirama nodded. “And our brothers?”

“Same deal,” Madara crossed his arms, “I see Izuna is safe with you, and Tobirama is safe with me.” 

Tobirama was safe with Madara, Hashirama knew it. How Madara was willing to murder so many of the elders for him, and how Hikaku is still here, despite it being best for him to keep his space from Madara. He’s here, to keep an eye on Tobirama. The way he stands, head bowed, arms wrapped around himself, trying to be invisible best he could so Madara would not be reminded of his presence. And yet he is still there, watching Tobirama from the corner of his eye. Safe. His Outoto is safe, and protected. Hashirama let out a long sigh, stepping forward to look at his brother and smiling softly, “My dear Tobi, you will be alright.” Tobirama didn’t react at all, so he pulled back, “Fine. Our deal continues.”

Izuna sputters, “No! I don’t want to stay!” He huffs, shaking his head and glaring at both his brother and Hashirama. He can’t believe his brother is doing this to him. He can’t believe his brother is choosing Tobirama over him. He doesn’t want to stay with the Senju’s. He wants to be home, helping Madara and doing his damn job as second in command and- and not with the Senju’s! “They torture me!”

Madara quirked his eyebrow, amused. “Oh really?”

“Yes! They force me to engage in these weird rituals-“

“-We play lots of games. Especially games he never played before.”

“-and they feed me poison-“

“-We make him try some traditional Senju foods.”

“-And they dress me like I’m their doll!”

“We do. It’s quite fun dressing him up.”

A surprised, rumbling laugh echoed from Madara’s chest. It seems like Izuna is having quite the fun time, and though he is more hesitant to put his brother back with that clan after learning how the clan has treated Tobirama, he knows Hashirama will protect him. Besides, Madara can’t complain. At least they haven’t made an active assassination attempt on Izuna’s life. And yet, Hashirama is letting Tobirama stay, not that Madara would let Tobirama go, but it shows trust. So he trusts Hashirama with his little brother.

“Izuna, you are strong. You can continue with this so peace can be formed.”

“...You suck,” with the way Izuna slumped, arms crossing again and eyes casting away, Madara knew his brother is relenting, and will willingly go back to the Senju’s despite his frustration.

Hashirama took a step toward Tobirama, reaching out and gently caressing his Outoto’s cheek under the cautious scrutiny of his best friend, “Hey Tobi.”

The touch finally had Tobirama looking up, eyes wide and staring for a moment, processing, then he blinked slowly, Anija? You’re here?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Hashirama smiled and Tobirama reached forward, gripping onto Hashirama’s hand. The oldest Senju pretended not to notice how Madara’s protective grip on Tobirama tightened, and his eyes narrowed almost possessively. Hashirama simply continued to hold onto Tobirama’s hand with a smile, “You’re alright. I’m here, and so is Madara.”

Hashirama realized three things all at once: One, Madara loves his little brother. Two, Madara will die before he lets Tobi get hurt. And Three, it’s going to be nearly impossible getting his brother back.

“If that’s all, then I think we should be getting back home,” Madara spoke softly, and Hashirama let out a long sigh. For now, he will play along. For peace. He bent forward, giving his brother a kiss on the cheek.

“If you need me, you know how to contact me,” Hashirama stood and stepped back with a pause- it wasn’t enough time with his brother, but he supposed he’s even lucky Madara allowed him to do that just now. But he’s sure Madara realized if he tried to step in his way one more time... no, happy thoughts. He let his normal, beaming smile cross his face before enthusiastically taking Izuna’s hand, much to the boys chagrin, “Let’s go. I’ll see you all later!”

Madara, Tobirama, and Hikaku watched them go.

* * *

 

By the time they made it back to the Uchiha compound, Tobirama had stopped trembling, mostly coming back to his senses. He was embarrassed, a bit, and looked up to Madara with a bit of weariness in his eyes, “You know I’m fine.”

“You are,” he knew that, yet didn’t let the boy go from under his arm, leading Tobirama toward his room. One glare back at Hikaku finally sent the other man away, leaving them alone. Back at the Uchiha compound, Hikaku feels he can keep better eyes on Tobirama, even if he’s out of sight. So he will leave them, because he’s sure Tobirama is safe. Especially with Madara, he had nothing to worry about. Madara will keep him safe, even if the man will kill him once he’s done taking care of Tobi.

“Why am I going into your room?” Tobirama looked up at Madara, eyes narrowed in caution and curiosity. 

“Because I don’t trust you by yourself anymore.”

“That’s rather rude.”

“I don’t care. I thought you died.”

He realized yes, not telling Madara about that was also rather rude, and he probably definitely should have told Madara he was going to play dead for a bit. After all, remembering the raw pain in Madara’s chakra when- he didn’t know the man cared so much for him. It was touching, it was... too much for that moment. Now though, it’s obvious. The way Madara protects him, overwhelms him, holds him tight, it reminds him much of an over-fretting, motherly Hashirama. Tobirama sighed, he’s just going to go along with it. He knew better than to try to stop an older brother from mothering, it only leads to more worrying and fretting.

Madara led him to the bed, all but tucking him in and giving him a kiss goodnight.

Oh, how Tobirama didn’t miss this. (And really, really did all at the same time).

“I want you to sleep now, but tomorrow we have to talk,” Madara day beside Tobirama in the bed, looking down at the other man, “Because right now, some things aren’t adding up.”

Worrying his lip, Tobirama nodded, “Ok.” He really didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to have a conversation- any conversation about anything. But, but it is the least he could do for the man. Especially after everything. “Sleep first.”

“Yes, sleep first,” Madara made himself comfortable on the bed, pulling a book from his nightstand and starting to read, his free hand finding its way to Tobirama’s hair, and mindlessly playing with it.

It was a weakness, and immediately Tobirama melted into the feeling, sleep quickly overtaking him after that.

Flipping a page, Madara sighed. He has a lot to do tomorrow: murder Hikaku, re-assemble the Elders, and have a conversation with Tobirama.

He’s not looking forward to it, but looking down at the young Senju asleep in his bed, he has no regret. Tobirama is safe, and that’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! What do you think? Did the elders get what they deserve?   
> Hashirama had some fun in the chapter~ he will be doing some plotting a little later.   
> Do you guys want more Hashirama and Izuna? I’m curious what you’re all thinking! 
> 
> Please say hi to me on tumblr at: https://catsandcoffee103.tumblr.com
> 
> Also! I want to do a few drabble challenges, so if you want, please leave a character and/or scenario you would like drabbled!


	8. A talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't as long as the normal chapters, but it's kind of the transition to what I really want the 'next phase' of the story to go! Also, I am hella busy between college and work so it's gonna take some time, so I wanted to just get something out here for y'all to read!

Peace is such a seductive word. Most strive for it, strive for the delusion of a ceasefire, of working together, of being at  _peace_. The truth is, though, peace simply does not exist. 

She'll teach them that the hard way. Not yet, though, it's too soon. 

* * *

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, reality is stranger than dreams. Sometimes, in his dreams, Tobirama is back in his clan, training and mentally preparing himself to make the ultimate sacrifice. It’s a normal day, that life. Training: giving out bruises and taking his own. In his dreams, his training fades into the battlefield, watching as his clansmen slowly get slaughtered- but also as they slaughter the rival clan. It’s another day, another moment, another repetition of the pattern in his life. The pattern he’s been following since he could walk.

Then there’s reality.

There’s a haziness in his mind that he is unused to, one that’s fogging his normal sharpness and clarity. He wakes up groggy, mouth stuffed with cotton and tongue heavy like lead. He groaned softly, forcing his disobedient eyelids open, blinking blearily as the world slowly came into focus. Part of his mind was screaming at him, telling him such little alertness will get him killed. He wonders why he cares so little about that revelation.

His vision slowly comes to, feeling a pleasant hum of chakra across the room. Madara’s chakra. The Uchiha was sitting across the room, hair pulled back into a low ponytail as he quietly completes some paperwork, a little bit of ink staining one side of his cheeks.

How domestic. How utterly wrong.

Tobirama faced himself into a sitting position, the shuffling of the sheets around him alerts Madara that he has woken. The Uchiha turned and smiled at him, seeing him up- and that’s when Tobirama knew his reality was truly stranger than his dreams. A Uchiha smiling at a Senju, not with malice nor hostility, but with… kindness. It’s wrong. Or, perhaps he’s actually dead.

No, no, Hell wouldn’t be this nice.

“Welcome to the world of the living,” Madara stands, strolling over to sit on the side of the bed, looking over Tobirama once, as if to ensure he’s ok, “How are you feeling?”

“Like my mind is filled with mud,” he let out a long sigh, pulling the sheets up to be held against his chest.

“Not surprised, you had a real bad day the other day.”

Oh yes, the whole tricking the elders, ending up being knocked down by Madara’s very angry, very overwhelming blast of chakra. That was rather a terrible day, and from then it gets blurry… was Hashirama there? Hashirama, comforting him? He’s not even sure that happened, though he’d like to believe it did. He’d like to believe his brother cared enough to show up in his time of need.

Madara’s soft smile turned into a small frown. “Speaking of, I wanted to ask you about it.”

With a groan, Tobirama looked away, “Not now.”

“Yes now,” Madara bodily hauled the albino over to make him face Madara, and that’s when Tobirama knew he didn’t have a chance. Screw the Uchiha and his stupid fucking stubborn dumbass. Tobirama grumbled beneath his breath, finally looking up at Madara to make eye contact with weary eyes.

“Fine, what do you want?”

Madara returned the look, eyes narrowed, “I wasn’t aware you’re so sensitive to chakra.”

“Of course you didn’t know, I didn’t tell you.”

“Why? I’ve never heard of someone being that in tuned before. It’s rather impressive.”

Tobirama paused as he tried to think. He needs to be careful about this. Madara is already suspicious, and he needs to give an answer that’d satisfy Madara’s suspicion while still keeping his secret. He doesn’t want Madara to know… he doesn’t want Madara to think less of him; to spoil this friendship that has grown between them. He knows Hikaku had said Madara wouldn’t judge him but, well, in a life that only strength brought worthiness and adoration. His blindness… though it brought him this undeniable strength, has only ever been seen as a weakness by outsiders. He has no shame in who he is, but he still fears the judgement of those he holds dear.

When did Madara become someone he holds dear?

“I was not born a skilled fighter, and to prove my use to my clan I had to develop a skill they would be able to use in battle.”

“So you learned to sense chakra, really, really well?”

“Yes.”

“And after that you became a complete badass?”

Tobirama scoffed, “When you spar with Hashirama, you learn to fight, it just didn’t come natural.”

Madara… felt like the story could be true but… It didn’t seem right though. To be so powerful, as powerful as Tobirama is- yes, there’s hard work, and a lot that has to go into said hard work, but there still has to be talent.To get so powerful, no matter what, it isn’t built through pure hard work. It can’t be, otherwise most ninja’s would become as strong as them, and that simply doesn’t happen. So, it can’t be. Especially not in their line of work. If it was, he’d be dead before he got good enough. This world isn’t a forgiving place.

So, to be real, Madara doesn’t buy it, not at all. Which only means Tobirama is lying. For what purpose, he doesn’t understand. It was perplexing, and he thought his and Tobirama’s relationship was better than this.

Why would the boy lie? What does he have to hide? Or perhaps, perhaps it was something clan related.

“Tobirama, come on, what’s the truth?”

Tobirama stared at him, frowning deeply. He thought his lie was fairly convincing, but to be fair, the Uchiha’s are known to be able to ‘see all.’ So a little lie probably wouldn’tfool Madara. Damn the man and his eyes… his knowledge.

Madara returned his stare, not wavering once. It was a good old fashion stare down, and Madara was winning. Of course he was. Though Tobirama was good, he hasn’t had enough experience with the art of the stare down to be able to beat Madara. Madara who, he is sure, has had much more practice.

Tobirama looked away.

Got him.

Madara reached out, hand soft as he grabbed Tobirama’s own. He gave it a reassuring squeeze, and Tobirama let out a very long breath. He returned the squeeze, shaking his head softly.

“I do not wish to speak of this.”

“You know I’d help you, whatever it is, correct?” He smiled reassuringly, but Tobirama didn’t make eye contact. He didn’t see the smile, but that’s fine. He’s sure Tobirama knew he was giving him that little, reassuring smile.

The boy shook his head, letting out a ragged breath, “I don’t want to.”

“Can you at east tell me why not?”

“Because if I do, a shinigami will come and rip my soul from my very core, turning me into a soulless being who will feed on the happiness of those around me.”

“…Really?”

_An Idiot._

“No.”

Madara slumped, “Come on, you can talk to me.”

“I know, I simply do not wish to.”

Madara puffed his cheeks out in a child like pout, finally letting his shoulders slump in resignation. He is not getting anything from Tobirama, that much is obvious.

Madara shook his head, standing up and letting himself stretch for a bit. “At least think it over, yeah?”

Tobirama nodded. He will, truly. He will.

“Now let’s get you some sun. Any more pale and you’ll be see through.”

* * *

 

Hikaku knows, Madara is sure of it. Whatever secret Tobirama is hiding, Hikaku is knows what it is. Why else would they have such a budding friendship? Why else would they share their discrete glances, hidden smiles, and the way they whisper… Does Tobirama trust Hikaku more? Or has Hikaku just been able to figure it out first?

It’s infuriating.

The clan head is ending this, ending whatever this is. He waited, watching like a predator stalking prey, delaying until the perfect moment arises and then- oh yes, he attacks.

Hikaku enters his room alone, of course he does, it’s his private space. Yet, nothing is truly private, especially not when an angry cousin is on the loose.

He gets cornered, Madara stepping out from behind the door and quickly snapping it shut, blocking the main exit. Hikaku is smart enough to know if he makes a break for the windows Madara would beat him.

He’s trapped.

“Oh fuck,” he said, with passion.

Madara only grinned wider, “We need to talk.”

Madara, however, won’t be as nice to Hikaku as he was with Tobirama. Hikaku knows that, too, by the way his face paled.

Oh, this is going to be _fun_.  
(Not to mention he has yet to forgive Hikaku for his hand in The Incident, as they've come to call it). 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Team Hikau or Team Madara?  
> (Is there really a competition? I think most would say it's just a Madara thing!)  
> Do you think Hikaku is going to let the cat out of the bag, so to speak?
> 
> And please, go bug me on my  
> [Tumblr](https://catsandcoffee103.tumblr.com/)  
> (@catsandcoffee103)  
> Speaking of tumblr, check out this amazing fanart of the story! [Fanart](https://catsandcoffee103.tumblr.com/post/187008381437/i-made-a-thing-for-catsandcoffee103-based-on)  
> Truly, I am so blessed to receive this art!


	9. Weakness and Strength

Tobirama Senju always had a weakness. It wasn’t a particularly large weakness, nor was it easily exploitable, but it was always there. His weakness was children. Children, who were so adorable and lovable, so genuine and honest and- he loved children. He wishes he could have some, but he fears if he does he’d end up more like his Father than he’d ever truly want to be. Besides, he just isn’t biologically pre-disposed to having kids. It’s a thing.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t try his best to be around them, to act as a big brother or father, to help them when he can wherever he can. Senju clan or… Uchiha clan.

Both Madara and Hikaku were out. He knows not where and he doesn’t really care to figure out. Madara has been… strangely possessive and Hikaku- he feels bad for the man. He wishes to apologize for how his behavior during The Incident got him in trouble, but apologizing is hard. He’s promised himself to do it the next time he sees the Uchiha, but he also seems to believe actively searching for him isn’t necessary. And so, it’s so.

But not having his two friends around is rather dull, so he took up to- finally - wandering out a bit on his own. With the genocide that happened, he doubts any Uchiha is willing to go against him, not while the blood is still warm and memory fresh. He’s safe, at least right now. Safe to wander and see what there is to see, to stumble upon kids playing a game in the street. He smiled, paused, and stepped closer; smile changing to a frown when the kids paused, hesitated, stepped back. It breaks his heart they are afraid of him.

“Hello,” he smiles again, genuine and kind, “What are you playing?”

“… Hit ball.” Ah, the brave one. He stood tall as a small boy could, chest puffed out and standing just a tad infant of the others, protectively.

“May I play?”

“Won’t you hurt us?”

His smile turned to a pained frown once again. He remembers that fear, that fear of the other clan, fear of death, fear of torture. He hated that that fear was aimed at him, from someone so young. Though he’s glad they still have that fear, he’s glad they haven’t gone numb to the risk of murder- of dying.

“Of course not. No matter what I’ve done, I’d never hurt a child.”

“I’m not a kid!” Petulant, adorable.

“Of course not. I still won’t hurt you though.”

“But you’re a monster.”

The rumors. Before he could help it, Tobirama let out a small, pained sound. He is used to the accusations- but to hear it from the mouth of a child, from a baby. To hear it directed at him… to know his reputation really has become a bed time story, a cautionary tale. It hurt.

A silence, he tried to collect his thoughts.

“Not… all monsters are bad.”

“Huh?”

Yes, he can do this, “Some monsters protect.”

“No. If they protect then they aren’t monsters!”

“It’s true though! Some monsters protect kids- or not kids, excuse me- protect young adults. They are monsters, but also protectors.”

He heard a child huff, “So you’re a protector?”

“…No, but I’m trying to be. I’m trying to get better. Will you help me?”  
“Help you?”

“Yes. I need help. I need someone to help me become better. Can you help me become better? Can you be my hero?”

He heard a smile in their voice, felt as their chakra’s spark with the excitement of becoming a hero. A hero! Even better- a hero to a monster! They will be the one’s to turn a monster into a protector, and not just any monster- the White Demon himself! They can tell the whole clan that they turned the boogey man good! No one will have to worry about getting hurt any more, because they saved the day! Their chakra’s were like fireworks, excited and happy and proud, oh so proud of themselves.

“Ok! We’ll do it! But that means you gotta listen to us,” - “Yeah! Listen to us!”

Tobirama chuckled softly, “Ok. I will. What is the first thing I should do?”

“Uh…” Another pause, and then whispers as the children try to brain storm. Simply, they have not thought this far ahead. How should they make the bad guy good? Think! What do good people do?

“Clean your room?”  
“Pardon?” Tobirama blinked.  
“Yeah! Momma says only good soldiers clean their room. So to be good you gotta clean your room!”

A little chuckle escaped Tobirama. Oh, oh how precious, “I cleaned my room this morning,” He does it every morning. If not, father would- clean rooms are a necessity. It should always look like no one ever lived there. Barren. A soldiers room. No attachment, no emotion. It should be something he can leave behind, without any lingering nostalgia; something no one will need to clean when he dies.

“Oh. Have you trained?”

“Not yet.”

“Then train! Every good person needs to be able to defend himself!”

A dagger buried itself in Tobirama’s heart- he hates that. Hates that children are taught to fight- have to fight- at such a young age. Perhaps when this peace comes around, he’ll make sure not every child will need to fight. He’ll make sure that kids are only expected to be what they are- kids. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“Ok. Then can you teach me?”

“But, but aren’t you amazing? They’ve said you killed millions!”

“No, no, not nearly that much,” but still more than he’d like- “And I can always learn new things.”

Another pause, he can tell by the chakra the children are glaring, “But what if you just want to steal our moves?”

The distrust, forced upon even the young. Tobirama can’t blame them.

“Then how about I teach you some moves I know?”

“Really?” - “Now?” - “I wanna learn too!”

Tobirama chuckled softly, this will help. Yes, this will help. Perhaps the children will start trusting him, playing with him. Perhaps he will no longer be a monster, but rather just another person.

And if the children really do retain a thing or two, it won’t hurt anyone. They aren’t going to be fighting each other anymore- Tobirama refuses to let that happen. So sharing moves, sharing secrets, it’s a start to a united clan. 

“You can all learn. Where’s the best place to learn?”

“The training grounds! Follow us!”

Tobirama did, bright smile on his face. He can’t wait to teach them- to become more than a monster- perhaps even… to perhaps, even, become a big brother.

* * *

 

Hikaku was thoroughly ashamed in his cousin. Thoroughly. Like, imagine shame, and then sprinkle a little bit more disgust onto that. A Shameful Sunday. He groaned, falling back onto his bed and holding his head in his hands. He hates Madara.

“You have a crush on Tobirama.”

“What? No! Impossible! I just want you to tell me his secret and stop hanging around him.”

A child. A jealous, stupid, little kid. How anyone puts up with his dear cousin, he doesn’t know. (How the clan still stands with this man in charge is an even bigger mystery).

“Madara, I say this with the utmost love, get your head out of your ass. I am friends with Tobirama, and I won’t stop hanging out with him just because you want him to yourself,”

“No, I already told-“

“Shut up, I’m still talking,” he pulled his hands away from his head, glaring at his cousin. “You want Tobirama to be happy? Don’t control him, don’t cut out his friends. That’s unhealthy and abusive- and I know you’re better than that. He needs attachments, he needs friends, so no matter what you do I won’t cut him out. If you really like him, you’d encourage him to make new friends and help him form a positive support network. Also, I won’t tell you anything he said. He told me shit in confidence, so I won’t betray him like that and I’m offended you think I would. So stop, Madara. This whole child act- it doesn’t suit you. You’re an adult, act like one.”

He never broke eye contact with Madara, never wavered, and once he finished his little monologue there was silence- chilling silence. The type of quiet that lingers with the fog in the early morning, when all good is asleep and only bad intentions are left out. It’s the silence before a murder, the calm before the storm. Hikaku, truthfully, expects to be punched with how Madara has been acting lately. He’s braced himself, prepared himself for a black eye and perhaps a hand through his chest.

To his surprise, Madara only slumped.

“Fuck, I haven’t really been that bad, have I?”

“Not infront of Tobirama, but everywhere else? Yes.”

Madara rubbed his face through his hands, glaring daggers at the floor. A little scowl lifted at his lips, and he shook his head, “I just don’t get it, why does he trust you so much more than me?”

Hikaku hummed, so this is the real problem Madara has been stuck on. Interesting, “I don’t think he trusts you less,” Madara looked back up from the floor, scowl gone and curiosity taking it’s place, “I think he either values your judgement more, or thinks you’re more judgmental than I am.”

“I wouldn’t judge him-!”

“I know. And he may too. But you’re the clan head, your thought has more weight to it.”

Madara huffed, “How can I get him past that?”

Hikaku shrugged, “Be there for him. Be patient. Don’t pressure him and just… be his friend.”

“I am his friend!”

Hikaku rolled his eyes, “Yeah. And his brother’s friend, and the clan head, and the man who just murdered a bunch of people for him,” Madara flinched back. Good. “You’ve known each other for what? All of two weeks? Chill out.”

“He’s only known you for two weeks too!”

“Yeah, but I’m actually good with people,” To Madara’s scandalized scoff, Hikaku smirked, “Calm down. It’s true. You’re strong, I’m charismatic, it’s what makes us a good team.”

Madara crossed his arms, looking away from his cousin- the ass. How dare Hikaku make valid points. He just, he just wants his cousin to be wrong but… of course, he isn’t. He’s hardly ever so and it’s so extremely annoying. He, he does need to calm down. Perhaps his constant pressure is what’s making Tobirama falter in their trust. Perhaps Tobirama feels Madara wants to know more for political exploitation? Report the information back to Hashirama? There’s any number of possibilities…

Ok, new mission. Mission: Be a Friend.

He can do it. He will do it. For Tobirama.

Before Madara can get another word out, there was frantic knocking on the door. Both Hikaku and Madara turned toward the source, staring as a young Uchiha entered, looking nervous, “Sir, there’s something you may want to see.”

Said /something/ took them away from their conversation, away from their thoughts and out to a training field. A training field with Tobirama, sweaty and smiling, and four kids who were also sweating and smiling, determination gleaming in their eyes. Standing at a distance, there were parents- worried and angry and sharingans spinning. Tobirama pretends not to notice.

“What’s going on?” Madara slowed by the parents, looking over with a fluttering heart as Tobirama continued to spar. He was going easy, of course, actively critiquing when a child messes up, and helping them develop their jutsu’s better. And0 were the kids were using some basic Senju Justus? Did Tobirama really give up his clan Justus so easily? Just to make the children smile, happy, proud. Madara couldn’t help but grin. Tobirama- he really is a special soul.

He felt a clap on his back, turning his attention away briefly to see Hikaku smile, “While you deal with them, I’m going to join the spar.”

Ah yes, this is why Madara hates Hikaku. Abandoning the politics just to play - perhaps that’s why Tobirama prefers him? He can have a relationship, with minimal political attachments. It makes sense-

“Lord Madara! Please, that- that monster is poisoning our kids with lies.”

Madara furrowed his brow, “Lies?”

“Yes, Justus that will only hurt them and tales of peace!”

“But we are aiming for peace.”

A parent shook his head, “It’s not here yet. Besides, how do we know the Senju’s will not just turn their back on us? Hurt us?”

“How do they know we will not do the same?” Madara’s back straightened and the parents flinched back. Good. Let them fear his power, “We are striving for peace, so the children may grow up without fear. Why do you wish to stop that?”

“But the justus-“

“Tobirama has sacrificed his clan’s justus to our kids, for our trust, for this peace. They will not poison your kids, and I’m sure you’re smart enough to realize that,” He let out a long, controlled breath, “I hear where you speak from. You speak from war and fear, but fear no longer. He is giving himself fully to us, power and body. He is making your kids stronger, their knowledge more diverse. He is helping us, them. As parents, do you not want that for your children? Do you not want them to be happy? Strong? Don’t you want them to grow up in a time of peace. Are you not tired of having to bury your own kin?”

When the parents said nothing, he continued.

“Stop your foolishness. If it makes you feel better, I will stay here with Tobirama. But no longer shall you accuse him of crimes he has not committed, do you hear me?”

“…Yes, Madara-sama.”

Madara nodded, turning away when a small voice stopped him. A small voice of a whisper, “Should we really trust Madara-sama?”

“If not, he may slaughter us.”

Madara’s chest clenched, blood running cold. He knew the consequences of his actions, but- no, he wanted them to fear his power. Does he really want them to fear him? Not like this… No, no. He does not wish to be his father. He does not wish to be a tyrant.

_Shit._

He’ll need to deal with this. He’ll… he’ll need to ask Hikaku for help. He is better with people- the bastard. They really are a good team this way, aren’t they? He pretended not to hear the slight, instead moving to join Tobirama and Hikaku.

He walked over to Tobirama, nudging his shoulder gently as he cleared his thoughts, another time. Tonight, he will call a meeting with Hikaku again. They will discuss the issue, but not now. Not now.

“How are you?”

“Better, thank you for defending me.”

“Wait, you heard that?”

“My hearing is rather good. Thank you.”

Madara smiled, one that Tobirama returned, “You’re welcome. Now, what were you teaching these little brats?”

Tobirama chuckled, “Just a few tips and tricks.”

“They do seem to be doing well.”

“Of course, they are learning from me.”

“Oh?” Madara raised a brow, “Are you a teacher or something?”

“I wish to be.”

Madara paused. Huh, he didn’t expect that. Warrior, scholar, inventor, and now teacher? This man really is doing it all.

“You can be, you know.”

“Perhaps when peace comes.”

“I mean, you can be here, if you want.”

Tobirama’s head whipped to face Madara, eyes blown wide and disbelieving, “What?”

“Yeah. You can take on some genin, teach them your stuff. It’ll make you happy and show the clan you can be trusted!” A rather good idea, if he says so himself.

“I- yes. Yes, please. I would, I would be honored.”

Madara grinned brightly, “Then leave it to me.”

He wasn’t expecting the hug, but it was one he happily returned. And if Hikaku was giving him a thumbs up from under a pile of angry genin trying their hardest to pin him, then- well, he pretended to never see it.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some good fluff!  
> What do you think about the talk with Hikaku and Madara?  
> Do you think Tobirama will bea good teacher?
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm a bit excited to continue this one.  
> Tobirama is in for a wild ride. 
> 
> Please please comment! Tell me what you think, I will live off and use your feedback for future chapters!


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